


Ego and Enmity

by Brit Hux-Tico (birchwoods01)



Category: Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Ben Solo is Darcy, Darth Darcy, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, F/M, Family Drama, Finnpoe - Freeform, Gingerflower, Gingerose, Gingerrose - Freeform, Historical Accuracy, Historical Inaccuracy, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, M/M, Orphans, Past Child Abuse, Period-Typical Homophobia, Reylo - Freeform, Rosehux, Roux - Freeform, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:41:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 59,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22096555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birchwoods01/pseuds/Brit%20Hux-Tico
Summary: A Pride and Prejudice Reylo AU
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Rose Tico, Poe Dameron/Finn, Rey/Ben Solo
Comments: 130
Kudos: 189





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Brit, here. This is my first fanfiction in a while, and it’s my first here on AO3. A few notes about this story: It will only loosely follow the plot of P&P and SW. You’ll be able to recognize plot arcs and characters, but the story will turn away in different points to make it more feasible for these characters. Also, I am not a stickler for 100% historical accuracy, so some things might blur and blend. It’s fiction, embrace it! I hope you enjoy.  
> Note: I don’t have a Beta reader, so do excuse any errors that may exist. I am editing on my own! 😊  
> Disclaimer: Some dialogue will be quoted directly from Pride and Prejudice, both the movie and novel, and some from Star Wars as well. I do not own either works and I am not getting paid to write this or use these references. It’s just for fun! :P

The sun slowly burned away the fields of fog as it crept over the emerald horizon. Lost in it’s stillness, a young woman, seated beneath an ancient and gnarled oak, hugged her knees to her chest and peered out over the landscape. Breath was lost at the sight before her: green tips of grass beaded with dew, rolling fog shimmering in the morning light, gray and verdant trees bending with tranquil motion in the gentle breeze. Everywhere she looked there was so much green; she would never tire of it.

She stayed there for quite a while, until the sun crept high enough that she began to warm beneath her wool coat. Rising gracefully to her feet, she shook out the length of her taupe skirts and tapped each of her boots against the tree trunk to shed remnants of mud and grass. Then, jauntily and merrily, she began to make her way through the fields, heading back toward Longbourn House in the countryside of Hertfordshire, her home.

Longbourn was owned by Mr. Luke Skywalker, a single older gentleman who had never married, and inhabited by six other females in addition to he, only one of which had any actual relation to the man. His widowed sister, Leia Organa-Solo, resided there, along with five lovely young women whom the pair had pseudo adopted out of the kindness of their generous hearts. The girls were each individually loved and cared for by Mr. Skywalker and Ms. Organa as if they were their own, and each had a story of how they had been rescued by the sibling pair. Amilyn Holdo was the daughter of a renowned General in the British forces, who died without a male heir, leaving her destitute; Rose Tico, the darling orphan of immigrants who were killed at sea by pirates, rescued from a discarded lifeboat in the Atlantic ocean; Kaydel Connix, the babe of an unfortunate sex worker that Leia had assisted through her charity work; Jannah Williams, the bastard child of an unknown tycoon in London who refused to have anything to do with her; and Rey Johnson, an orphan who had been sold to pay off gambling debts. Mr. Skywalker had found her personally, all the other girls had been brought in by Ms. Organa, and was so distraught to see her scrapping in the streets of London, face covered in grime, a disgusting street rat forced to scavenge to survive, that he had brought her home to live with him on a whim. She had been the first to move into vacant Longbourn and had lived many years with him alone, before the death of Leia’s husband forced her to return to her brother, and more girls were brought into the home. Thus Mr. Skywalker had more softness in his heart for her than any of the other girls.

Each of the girls were lovely in their own way, though Rose tended to draw the most attention when it came to beauty. It was how she had earned her name, compared to the most beautiful and cherished flower in all of England. Amilyn, the oldest, was obsessed with writing, and spent most of her time dreaming up other worlds and penning them to paper. Kaydel, nicknamed Kay-D, was the youngest, and spent most of her days chasing their Pembroke Corgi, Bee Bee, out in the fields, wrestling in the mud with pigs, and being an all-around tomboy. Jannah was sophisticated and gentle; she liked to spend her time playing at the pianoforte and filled the house with the sounds of her practice. Rey, however, was the most peculiar of all of her sisters. Being raised in the slums of London, then for many years alone with a man, her education had lacked a certain refinement for ladies. She spent most of her time in the barn behind the house, tinkering with Mr. Skywalker’s tools and inventing mechanical objects to assist with the farming of the property. When she wasn’t getting her hands grimy with oil, however, her greatest joy was to stroll amongst the greenery of the countryside, something she loved with all of her heart. The dark streets of London had boasted nothing of nature, so moving to Longbourn with Luke had changed her.

She’d sneak out many a morning and stroll until the sun would rise, as she did on this particular day. Her hikes back to Longbourn invigorated her, and so it was that as she crested the hill and caught Longbourn within her sights, one would not think her once a hapless orphan from the gutters. Tendrils of her almond colored hair, pulled lazily into a messy bun, whipped happily around ruddy, sun-kissed cheeks. Her lithe and youthful frame, deceptively strong beneath the billows of dress, was pleasant and quite fit. Her gown, one of only a few, showed wear and tear with age, but was lovingly cared for. If one were to look closely, they could see differing colors of thread where a button or two had been replaced, a stitched hem, a seamed hole, and various other repairs, carefully administered to lengthen the life of the dress.

Ms. Johnson stepped into her home and removed her wool coat, hanging it carefully on the coatrack beside the front door. Notes of musical piano scales reverberated throughout the house from Jannah’s playing, though the sun had barely been up an hour, and footsteps could be heard upstairs, the four little paws of Bee Bee and Kay-D’s uncaring stomps as she chased the little corgi around. Smiling contentedly to herself, Rey snatched an apple off of the dining room table as she crossed from room to room, turning the hallway to discover Rose and Amilyn listening at the door of Luke’s study.

Rose raised a finger to her lips and her eyes widened as they met Rey’s.

“Shh,” she whispered with a grin. “Go get Jannah.”

“Why?” Rey spoke in a normal tone, her mouth full of apple.

“Hush!” Amilyn whined, swatting through the air at her. “Just go get her.”

Rey turned on one heel and poked her head around the corner into the dining room, whistling softly. Jannah stiffened on the bench, turning one head over her shoulder to peek back at Rey, though she did not cease her scales.

“What? I’m practicing. I thought I might play something at the ball tonight.”

“Rose and Ami told me to get you. They’re listening at Luke’s door.”

“What?” Jannah ceased playing immediately.

“It’s not very kind to eavesdrop, you know.” Jannah chastened them as she and Rey walked briskly down the hall to join the other two. Rose and Amilyn giggled and Rey, who tended to agree with Jannah in defense of Luke, grinned, leaning upon the shoulders of two of her sisters as they all bundled around the door. They could hear Luke and Leia’s voices within, bits of conversation were coming through clearly.

“You know Netherfield Park is let at last.“

“What do I know?”

“It would be nice if he would marry one of them.”

Rose shifted a little under Rey’s weight, hissing for her to stop pinching.

“Oh shut-up, it’s just your corset.” Rey hissed in her ear. Jannah and Ami gave her a synchronized shushing.

“- you always say marriage isn’t all a woman is good for.” Luke was finishing with a sigh.

“No, it isn’t all a woman is good for but it’s the world we live in. We cannot protect them forever.” Leia retorted.

“Of course we can. I’ll just… withdraw all of my money from the bank before I die and ship them off to India or Australia or-“

Leia huffed irritably. “India? So they can live with those colonizing bastards and lend to the oppression of their nation? Or Australia, where they can associate with wonderfully nice criminals who won’t harm a hair on their-,”

“Look who’s talking. You married a criminal.” Luke interjected.

The girls heard a stomp of a heavy foot on the wooden floor. Amilyn giggled. She had always admired Leia’s haughty strength.

“That’s different. On paper Han’s business was legal.” Luke laughed but Leia went on. “Luke… you know, no matter how much you and I want it, none of your money can pass on to them. Not even this house, it will go to-,”

“I know.” Luke sighed. There was a long pause. Some papers were shuffled around. A chair grated on the floor and someone fell heavily onto the seat.

“You know who he’s come to town with, yes?”

It sounded like Leia took a funny breath. Rey strained to hear better, raising a quizzical eyebrow.

“I know.”

“And you’re fine with this? How long has it been since you’ve seen him?”

“It doesn’t matter. He will be civil. You know he still sends me money.”

“Leia…” Luke sighed again. “Well, what do you propose?”

“Introduce yourself to him. Go visit him. At least this way the rules of society are out of the way and something magical can happen for one of our girls.”

“What’s his name?” Amilyn whispered. “Say his name!”

“It sounds like they’re talking about two gentlemen.” Rose commented.

Jannah nodded, her elbow spearing into Rey’s back as she leaned in closer. “Leia seems to know one of them.”

“Doesn’t she have a son?”

Rey snorted, then pulled away from the pile of girls. “Yeah,” she whispered derisively. “But she’s all but disowned him. Why do you think we don’t hear about him? He never visits. He broke her heart.”

“Terrible man.” Rose mumbled under her breath.

“Stop talking, I want to hear more!” Amilyn grumbled.

The girls fell silent, waiting with bated breath.

“No promise of marriage will come of this. He is wealthy and it is no secret that our girls come from certain unsavory backgrounds.”

“Unsavory?” Leia growled. “Each and every one of our girls has overcome the burdens of their past. They are all deserving of love and if-“

“Leia, I understand.” Luke interrupted again, a tired chuckle escaping from his lips. “I’ve already been introduced to him. I can introduce the girls tonight at the ball. Provided this poor young man actually comes.”

Leia exclaimed joyfully as Amilyn, who had been leaning steadily closer toward the partially propped door, stumbled against it and all four girls tumbled into the room.

“Girls!” Leia cried in shock. Luke didn’t seem surprised, and merely shook his head, chest rumbling in laughter.

“Do tell us his name!” Ami cried as she pulled to her feet.

“Will he come to the ball?” Rose asked breathlessly as Rey helped yank her to her feet.

“Is he wealthy? Is he amiable?” Jannah questioned, the most practical of them all.

“His name is Armitage Hux.” Leia stated warmly. “He has recently purchased Netherfield and has moved here from London.”

“Don’t forget to tell them he makes five thousand a year.” Luke stated with just a hint of scoff within his tone.

“Five thousand?!” Jannah and Amilyn exclaimed together. Rey caught eyes with Rose and grinned at the hilarity of it all.

“And he’s single.” Leia added, reaching out to take the hands of Rose and Jannah, pulling them both into her embrace and gesturing for Rey and Amilyn to come too. She hugged them all, kissing each of them on the tops of their heads, and laughed happily for the first time in quite a while.

“I know I have always taught you girls to make your own way in the world. But sometimes the world is unkind to women. Luke and I will not always be around to take care of you, so my hope and prayer is that you will find love to keep you warm.”

“And if not love, money!” Jannah exclaimed with a sharp laugh.

Amilyn and Rose giggled, but Rey rolled her eyes. Only Luke saw her, however, and he caught her gaze with a skeptical smirk and a raised brow.

“Rey, can I borrow your lace gloves?”

“No, Jan-,”

“But Rey said I could borrow them last week!”

“Rose always has the best gowns. Why can’t I have a blue lace gown?”

“Where is Kay-D?”

“She’s upstairs dressing Bee Bee in her doll’s suits. She claims no man can love her like Bee Bee can.”

“That girl will need to grow up sooner or later.”

Rey gently extricated herself from her family, flashing a warm smile at Luke before heading off for her room. Rose followed her quietly as Jannah and Amilyn pestered Leia about clothing questions, joining her on the stairs and taking her hand in her own.

“Rey?” She began, leaning into her sister and bumping her hip with her own. “Are you excited about the ball?”

Rey smiled and returned the bump, throwing her arm around Rose’s waist and walking arm in arm with her up the rest of the way to their room.

“I am excited for you.” She stated warmly. “You are the most beautiful, Rose, and if every man does not end the evening in love with you tonight, I am no judge of beauty.”

Rose laughed, her cheeks pink with flattery. “Nor men.”

“No, they are far too easy to judge.” Rey countered, flopping onto their four-poster bed and sighing, gazing up at the ceiling. “Humorless poppycock’s, in my experience.”

“One of these days someone will catch your eye and then you’ll have to watch your tongue.” Rose argued, sitting at the vanity and undoing her long, black braid, taking a bristle brush to it with great care.

“Perhaps. Though you know,” Rey mused almost more to herself. “Only the deepest love will persuade me to thoughts of matrimony.”

The room quieted, and Rose slumped a little in her seat, staring at her sister in the reflection of the mirror.

“I wish we all had your spirit, Rey.”

Rey turned and met Rose’s eyes, frowning.

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing.” Rose hummed, her bright mood returning. “I hope you find some good-humored dance partners this evening.”

Rey loved to dance but was not kidding about her attitude toward men. She did not hold as much hope about the evening as her sisters. She rose to her feet and stood behind Rose, taking the brush from her hands and resuming the job herself.

“Well, I hope you hit it off with this mysterious Mr. Hux. But you must promise me that if he turns out to be a scoundrel, you will alert me immediately so that I can defend my Rose.”

Rose giggled warmly. “I promise.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which everyone meets at a party, Rey is insulted, Rose is romanced, and family drama begins to surface.

Meryton was certainly very good at making merry. Though the town itself was rather small, the population of the countryside surrounding was plenty enough that each and every public ball was packed with young lads and ladies aching and yearning to have a dance with one another, and hopefully, potentially fall in love. While balls were first and foremost for the enjoyable practice of dancing, they also contained a not-so-secret political purpose as well: matrimony. In a world where the only jobs a woman could have required nurturing someone else’s children or spreading your legs for any number of strange men, there was not much more a woman could do than to land a fantastic match.

No one knew this better than Leia Organa-Solo, though she hated it. She had been one of the few fortunate ones to marry for love, but only due to her circumstances. She and her brother Luke had been separated at birth. Their father, Anakin, had been a violent drunk and had been responsible for the death of their mother, Padme. He went on to drink himself into oblivion not too long after that, and Luke and Leia were adopted out. Her adoptive father and mother had been a King and Queen of a small tribe in Papua New Guinea. Technically this made Leia royalty, but not to the small-minded people of England. Luke, however, had been raised by their Uncle Ben Kenobi, entrusted with the entirety of their birth father’s inheritance, because he was a male. It sickened Leia, the backwards rules of this country, but she had nowhere else to go. Her love, her beloved husband Han Solo, had been dead for many, many years. Her tribe had been destroyed by plague years before she had married him, so she could not return there. She had nowhere to turn but to her brother, who was more than happy to be a large part of her life again.

She’d done the best she could with her life, helping the poor, unfortunate women of this land try to stand on their feet. And she had made a difference in the lives of many girls. But nothing could replace the deep ache she felt inside of never being enough. Not when her own son had abandoned her long ago in favor of a life he felt she couldn’t give him. Not when she had to watch the girls she had raised play the political game of match-to-a-man.

But tonight, Leia could feel nothing but pure, unadulterated hope as she watched her girls make merry at Meryton townhall. The room was bursting with music and chatter, candles crowded the walls and kept the temperature high and most of the dancers faces bright red with cheery warmth. The floor shook with the stomps and turns and claps and cheers of the dancers, and ale and wine flowed freely to all who could find a glass. Leia herself even found a few willing dance partners, and took her turn as freely as her girls, while Luke remained ever the passive wallflower, his gaze protectively watching over each of his girls, trying to keep them all within sight.

Rose was, of course, the envy of the evening, being one of the most beautiful girls in town still yet unmarried. Rey, equally as beautiful though tarnished somewhat by her peculiarity, as most in the town knew her to be peculiar, was keeping up well with Rose’s dance partner tally. Round and round they swung, dance after dance, laughing if they went the wrong way, squeezing one another’s hands as they passed to swap partners. As soon as the song would end, Rose and Rey would slip their arms together and slide off to the side, only for another gentleman to get up the courage to step forth and request Rose or Rey’s hand for a dance. Then off they would start again, whirling and wheeling away into the night.

Jannah, not quite one for dancing, was whiling away her time happily at the piano in the gaming room, where gentlemen and ladies played whist and flirted away the hours. Amilyn herself was caught in a rousing game and winning. While the youngest, little Kay-D, ran around and around the ballroom with a gaggle of girls around her age, making snide comments and inappropriate remarks to gentlemen, being immature as young girls are wont to do.

Most of the Skywalker girls had forgotten about the intrigue of Mr. Hux as soon as they arrived at the ball and found him to be absent. But Rose had not forgotten, and neither had Rey, though she was quite certain she’d rather him stay away for good than potentially harm her favorite sister’s heart.

Both girls said little to one another as they finally managed to slip into the crowd, arm in arm again, making their way to the refreshment booth. Rose’s cheeks were rosy with mirth, which Rey found quite charming, but felt herself a little sweaty and imagined she looked less pleasant. She snatched two glasses of mulled wine and handed one to Rose, chugging her own down in three gulps. Rose laughed but daintily sipped at her own, looking around self-consciously.

“It’s such a shame he did not come.” Rose muttered quietly to only Rey.

Rey nodded. “Luke did seem to question whether he would.”

“We never did discover if the other gentleman they discussed was Leia’s son or not.” Rose remarked in curiosity. “Surely if he were in town he would have made himself known to Leia, come to visit, something.”

Rey had just opened her mouth to agree when the entire room fell silent. They both looked around for the source of the deadly quiet, expecting an injury or embarrassing public argument. However, all heads were craned toward the entrance of the hall. The crowd was carefully parting, pulling back from the dance floor in the center of the room, as three individuals made their slow way down the aisle. The silence broke as clusters of people began to whisper, and Rey took the opportunity to slide closer to her sister, lowering her head to whisper near her ear.

“Is that them? I cannot see them.”

Rose snorted. “You are taller than I. If you cannot see them, how could I?”

“I thought I’d ask…” Rey muttered, but her voice trailed off as the three individuals came into view. Her first thought was “ginger!” as two shockingly bright red heads came into view, but before she could assess their appearances, her eyes lit upon the third individual towering between them, a tall, mountain of a man, with shining black hair just long enough to brush the collar of his attire. His features were sharp and angular, immediately reminding Rey of the statues of Greek gods Luke had taken her to see when she was younger. Her eyes swept over his strong jaw, his broad shoulders, the proud way he carried himself, and rested upon a pair of deep, brown eyes so dark, and lost, and lonely looking, that her lungs momentarily forgot to breathe.

“He’s… perfect.” Rose breathed beside her. Rey nodded, her mouth dry, then seemed to come to and snapped to look at her sister.

“Who?” She questioned, then turned back to gawk at the newcomers, intending to take in the gingers. But her eyes were drawn, once more, to the large man in the middle. She was content to watch him, keen to take in the expensive attire he boasted, most likely privately tailored and made of the finest silk, to the size of his hands and the bob of his throat as he swallowed. Time suspended as Rey drank him in, feeling a tug of recognition somewhere deep within her and pushing it down, ignoring it. His head turned, his hair rippled at his collar, and Rey glanced back up at his eyes, her stomach plummeting in ice. He was looking at her. He was staring at her.

She forced her head away, turning to lean into Rose and whisper breathlessly in her ear.

“Rose, who is the man in the middle?”

“Rey,” Rose began, seeming distracted, but turning to look at Rey with concern in her eyes. “You don’t recognize him?”

“No.” Rey mumbled. “Should I?”

“That’s Ben Solo.” Rose whispered. “He’s Leia’s son. We’ve seen a painting of him. It’s in the attic, remember?”

Rey felt cold all over, growing quite still as a queasy feeling overcame her.

“He’s… Ben Solo? Leia’s errant son?”

“Yes,” Rose breathed out a mocking laugh. “And heir to all of his father’s enormous fortune. The one who refused to look after his widowed mother after his father’s death. The one rumored to have caused his father’s death.”

Rey knew all of this of course. When she glanced back up at the trio, they had already made their way to the back of the room and were standing awkwardly in a corner. The dancing had resumed, though it was less raucous and rowdy than it had been before. She scanned his face again, Ben Solo’s, and found her curiosity lacking. He was handsome, yes, but her opinion had been colored. He began to turn foul in her eyes.

“But Leia-,”

“Is coming this way. Come on.” Rose grabbed the glass from Rey’s hand and deposited them on the table, then took her hand and pulled her through the crowd toward Leia and Luke.

“Would you like to meet Mr. Hux, girls?” Leia asked softly as she approached them, taking Rose’s vacant hand in hers.

Rey frowned, trying to catch Leia’s eye with hers. “But Leia, your-,”

Leia interrupted her. “My son is here, yes. Would you like to meet him?”

Rey did not want to meet him if it meant any kind of discomfort to Leia. She would very much like to deliver a swift kick to his expensively clad groin.

“Rey, later.” Luke mumbled near her ear, clapping her on the shoulder and whirling her around toward the back of the room. He knew her well enough to see that she was about to put up a fight about the situation. 

There was a queue line to meet the newcomers. Rey took the opportunity to examine the gingers as they waited their turn to be introduced. One male and one female, their appearances were similar, though the females face was softer and more rounded. They, too, were dressed extravagantly, leaving Rey, for the first time, self-conscious of her and Rose’s basic ball attire. The gentleman, Mr. Hux, had soft, friendly-looking green eyes and a mouth that looked like it knew happiness as permanent smile lines surrounded it. The female’s eyes, however, were a shockingly bright yellow, reminding her somehow of a cat’s eyes as they glinted somewhat in the flickering candlelight. The unpleasant sneer on her pretty pink mouth indicated she wasn’t nearly as happy ever as the second ginger beside her.

The Skywalker group finally made their way up to the newcomers and, as Rey slid up to take her place beside Rose, a mildly awkward silence descended between them all. Rey, trying with all her might not to, took a daring glance up at Mr. Solo. His posture reeked of pomp and disdain; his arms crossed over his chest so tightly the seams on his suit strained with the pressure.

“Ben,” Leia spoke quietly. It was almost a whisper, a hope sent on a breath, and his lonely brown eyes snapped to his mother’s. Rey watched this exchange until it felt too intimate and looked away, running her hand down Rose’s arm and grabbing her hand, squeezing it for comfort.

“Mr. Ben Solo, you know your uncle Luke,” Leia spoke carefully, gesturing to Luke, who’s face remained impassive. “These young women are-,”

“Is it common, Mr. Solo, for a woman to do the introductions around here?” cut in the female ginger. Her upper lip curled snootily, making her far uglier than she should be.

“No.” Mr. Solo stated quietly, his voice a deep, rumbling timbre. Rey could almost feel it shake between them. “However, my mother is not from England thus she is inexperienced with proper decorum. You’ll have to excuse her.”

Leia was wounded, but it did not appear on her face. She fixed a strong, rather fake smile on her lips, eyes grown icy in self-defense, but gestured for Luke to continue.

“This is Rose Tico and Rey Johnson.” Luke stated without fanfare, his irritation evident in his voice and the way he protectively placed a hand on Leia’s shoulder.

Both Rey and Rose curtsied and bowed their heads as their names were mentioned, though Rey was increasingly growing tired of the experience, longing for the moment when they could leave and go back to dancing. 

“This is Miss Millicent Hux and Mr. Armitage Hux.” Ben uttered flatly. The gingers on either side of him bowed and curtsied respectively.

“We met, the other evening, Mr. Hux, at the billiard game here in town.” Luke began, doing his best to get a conversation started. It was the only reason he had come, after all.

“Yes, indeed.” Armitage Hux agreed, grinning broadly and nodding his head. His pale green eyes flicked from face to face as he hesitated, his gaze lingering on Rose’s a beat longer than the others. “I believe you told me of your… er, em. Your daughters?”

“They are not my daughters of any legal standing, but in love and heart they are, yes.” Luke agreed.

“Well, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ms. Tico.” Mr. Hux muttered nervously, then seemed to remember Rey was present as well, his hands fidgeting anxiously. “Ah, and um… Ms. Johnson.”

Rose beamed, and Rey nodded her head, returning a small smile. She poked a finger between Rose’s ribs, behind her, right in the hole she knew Rose had in her old and overly abused corset. Rose jumped and coughed, then hesitantly blurt out “We are very pleased to hear you have taken Netherfield hall.”

“Oh, as am I. It is a beautiful home. And the countryside is quite different than town.”

As Rose and Armitage descended into the awkward sort of small talk Rey loathed at functions like this, she observed Millicent Hux lean in toward Ben Solo and whisper something, her face snarky and mean. Ben Solo smirked, breathing out a small chuckle, and Rey abruptly turned to Mr. Hux.

“Do you dance, Mr. Hux?”

Hux blinked at Rey as if he hadn’t heard her, then cleared his throat and nodded. “I-, yes. I do. I was, in fact, just about to ask if Miss Tico would like to offer me her hand this next dance.”

“Oh, yes. That would be lovely.” Rose agreed happily, the faintest of pink blush painting her delicate cheeks.

Mr. Hux offered her his arm and, taking it, Rose followed him toward the dance floor. Rey watched them affectionately, happy to see something turning out right from this awkward evening, then turned back to the present company, which had once more descended into silence. At the very least, Ms. Millicent Hux had sensed an impending conversation for which she did not want to be involved and had begun to make her way toward the refreshment booth. Rey turned to dismiss herself as well, but Luke caught her wrist, holding her in place.

“How have you been?” Leia asked her son breathlessly.

He was looking anywhere but at her: the ceiling, the floor, the dancers, Rey’s shoes, his sleeve.

“Busy. Business is doing well.” He remarked coolly.

“That’s good.” Leia muttered. “You look well. How long will you be in the area?”

Rey began to tap her foot impatiently, wanting to turn away. She leaned her shoulder into Luke’s and gave him an obvious look, turning once more to go, but Luke kept her firmly in place, on hand on her wrist and the other on Leia’s shoulder.

“As long as Hux needs me.” Mr. Solo uttered with disinterest. “He and his sister are still settling into Netherfield.”

“Well, that’s good.” Leia murmured.

It was heartbreaking to watch the estranged mother and son try to have a meaningful conversation in a sea of social intrigue. It was almost too much for Rey to bear, until Luke squeezed her wrist and interjected.

“Mr. Solo, do you dance? Ms. Johnson here is a remarkable dancer.”

Rey’s cheeks flooded red with warm shame and she pierced Luke with an incredulous glare, barely resisting the urge to stomp on his foot.

“ I-, “ Ben awkwardly began, but Leia turned to Rey with a warm smile.

“Oh, yes. Please do dance with him, Rey.”

“I-,” Rey choked out, beginning to shake her head, but Ben beat her to denial.

“I must refuse. Excuse me.” He uttered darkly, then turned away from all three of them and lumbered away through the crowd, making his way toward the refreshment table and Ms. Hux.

Rey had never been turned down before. It was a sobering feeling, though she wasn’t entirely disappointed. Swallowing hard over a lump in her throat, she turned to Luke and poked a firm finger in his chest.

“What was that?” She demanded. “I am perfectly capable of finding my own dance partner, and why would I want to dance with that pompous pretender anyway?”

“Rey-,” Luke interjected, as Leia turned away from the both of them and made her swift way out of the dance hall, dodging easily through the sea of revelers. Rey wanted to go after her, but Luke pulled her back, guiding her back to the long shadows along the wall where they could speak with a modicum of privacy. “Rey, Ben is still a sore spot for Leia.”

“I could tell.” She muttered softly, compassion for Leia turning her heart.

“That’s why I wanted you there. Ben isn’t very forgiving, so in these social circumstances it would be-,”

“Why does he need to forgive her? What arrogance has he that he should deign to forgive-,”

“Rey.” Luke emphasized to quiet her, placing a hand over hers and patting it gently. “It is not my business to tell. Just know that where Ben is concerned, Leia will need us there for her, as long as he is around.”

Rey nodded, chastened, and turned to examine the dancers for Rose and her dance partner, hoping they, at least, were having a fabulous time.

“I understand. I will go check on her and make sure she’s okay.”

Rey moved to follow Leia outside but Luke stopped her, shouldering his way forward.

“No, my dear. Enjoy the ball. I will check on my sister.”

She watched him exit the dance hall, taking up his post of wallflower as she no longer felt like dancing. Rose and Armitage Hux danced the next three songs together, and Rey watched them playfully laughing with one another, their expressions lighthearted and carefree, Rose’s eyes bright with mirth. Rey felt content to see her world light up, knowing that of all the people in the world, Rose deserved to be happy.

During these dances, two gentlemen came by and offered Rey their hand but she denied them, successfully ensuring that no other gentleman would ask for her again in the course of the evening. She couldn’t stop herself from wondering just what had happened between Ben Solo and his mother. She didn’t understand how someone could allow their relationship with their in the flesh, existing, right there in front of you, loving you, mother.

She tried to tell herself she was not scanning the crowd for glimpses of wavy black hair and broad shoulders, or a set of deeply sad brown eyes. But as Rose approached, pink-faced and bright-eyed from a whirlwind of dancing, she forgot all about those eyes and hugged her sister close.

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

Rose beamed and nodded exuberantly. “Yes. Armitage is going to get me a drink.”

“Armitage, is it?”

Rose blushed.

“Mr. Hux is… going to get me a drink.” She corrected softly. Rey laughed.

“Well, I will leave you here, then. My presence will only spoil your conversation.”

“Oh, no. Stay, Rey! You won’t spoil anything.” Rose seemed concerned of leaving her out.

“No, it’s fine.” She smiled warmly. “This is everything you’ve ever dreamed of, if he gets it right.”

Rey gave Rose a small wave as she pulled away from her, making her aimless way through the crowd. The room was beginning to feel stifling hot, and Rey was finding it hard to breathe in her tightly laced gown and even tighter laced corset. Passing by the refreshment booth, she sidled up behind two broad-shouldered gentlemen and reached a hand for a glass, beginning to ladle some mulled wine into it’s opening. She stopped, however, when she caught snippets of the conversation the gentlemen were having.

“Will you not dance, Solo?” It was Hux’s voice.

“As you know, I find it an egregious sin to dance with anyone upon whom I have been recently acquainted.”

Rey turned to find herself staring straight at the broad back of Ben Solo. Choking, she turned immediately and dipped behind the side of the booth, slipping to the back behind the servant’s curtain and holding her breath, praying that neither of them had seen her.

“But so many of these girls are rather pleasant. And several of them are uncommonly pretty.”

“You are dancing with the only handsome girl in the room.”

“Miss Tico is the most beautiful creature I have ever beheld.” Hux stated confidently. Rey smiled softly, appreciating his candor toward her sister. “However, her sister is quite pretty and I dare say agreeable. Why not dance with her?”

Rey couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t breathe at all.

“Do you mean that scavenger rat my uncle took in? She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me.” Ben Solo sneered scathingly. “You’d better return to your partner and enjoy her smiles. You are wasting your time with me.”

Their expensive shoes clipped along the wooden floorboards as the men walked away, leaving Rey hunkered behind the curtain with a boiling rage beginning to smolder within her. This evening had turned quite rotten rather quickly, but at least she had learned something. Ben Solo was a horrible, mean, disgusting troll of a man, and she was quite certain she would happily never see his stupid handsome face again.

ꕥ

Warm light glowed within the halls of Longbourn, a beacon in a field of surrounding darkness, as the inhabitants within prepared for sleep. The Skywalker family had remained at the party in Meryton until well past midnight, though the energy of the home did not seem to be dwindling too soon. Candles burned in every window, scenes playing out of one girl brushing her hair, another sneaking behind her sister to whack her in the head with a pillow, a girl dabbing her quill in a bottle of ink and scribbling madly away, a woman wiping tears from her eyes in the solitude of her own room, a man snoring gently away. One female figure moved from room to room, peering into each room as she checked in on each of her family members, making her way back to her own with a glass of water.

She paused at the sound of Leia’s soft, sorrowful crying, laying her hand gently upon the door handle and debating with herself whether to enter. Deciding against it, knowing that Leia had always been hesitant to speak about the issues between her and her son, Rey pulled reluctantly away from the door and tiptoed past to the room she shared with Rose.

The door clicked gently behind her and Rey turned around to a grinning Rose. She rushed to the bed they shared and handed her the glass of water, hopping onto the mattress, causing them both to bounce and sway a bit.

“So,” Rey began, impatiently watching Rose chug the water down thirstily. “Did he make any indication of wishing to see you again?”

Rose flushed and coughed, choking on her water. Rey took the glass from her and put it on the side table, patting her hard on the back as Rose spluttered and hacked, dissolving into giggles.

“He did, yes.” She confirmed joyfully.

“When? Where?” Rey pestered.

“Well, I’m not sure where or when. He merely indicated that my presence was refreshing and he hoped to see me again.” Rose said with a sigh.

“That’s it?” Rey laughed flatly. “Did he kiss you?”

“Oh, goodness, Rey!” Rose chastised her with a scathing, reproachful look. “No, he was a perfect gentleman. However,” she chewed on her bottom lip, gazing down at her hand in her lap, tapping each of her fingers to her thumb in a slow pattern. “He hardly ever let go of my hand when we danced.”

Rey watched Rose’s cheeks blaze with a giddy smile.

“Well, let us hope that we see more of Mr. Hux in the future.”

“He really found me beautiful?” Rose inquired, continuing the conversation they had begun on the carriage ride home, when Rey had told her of her eavesdropping on Mr. Solo and Mr. Hux.

“Oh yes, quite.” Rey muttered with grit teeth. “Both of them, in fact. _YOU are dancing with the only handsome girl in the room.”_ She ended mockingly, mimicking Ben Solo’s deeply gruff voice unsuccessfully, but it did give the girls a laugh.

“I cannot believe he said that about you!” Rose commiserated. “What a horrible man. What did he call you again?”

“A scavenger rat!” Rey laughed sardonically, throwing her hand up into the air dramatically. “Oh, Lord Solo, please forgive a poor young girl as I for befouling the very air you breathe with my presence.”

Rose laughed and put both hands over her heart. “Oh, Rey, I am very sorry he said those things of you.”

“It matters not,” She sighed truthfully, her grin softening into a sad smile. “I could never forgive him for what he has done to Leia, so I am saved from him.”

Rose stared at her sister, examining her through warm, tawny eyes.

“I know there will be a man for you. You will find him.”

“I do not fear ending an old maid.” Rey quipped, turning to punch her pillow into submission, falling upon it with an exhausted sigh. “I only fear what may happen to my sweet sisters. Mr. Hux better come through for you.”

“Oh, shut it.” Rose muttered affectionately, turning to blow out the candle beside the bed. Darkness rushed into the room, and Rey felt it call to her like an old friend, enveloping her in the temptation of sleep.

“Goodnight, Rey.” Rose whispered as she settled under the covers.

“Goodnight…” Rey responded, her world fading to black.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chapter in which many letters arrive and cause mass amounts of drama.

Mornings moved slowly at Longbourn the night after a ball. Most of the inhabitants did not rise until well after sun rise, the servants of the household knowingly kept preparation of food at bay until needed. However, Rey was a restless soul and could never find comfort in sleep. Sleep was a necessity, a survival skill, and anything beyond that was frivolous. Rising early, she slipped her gray dressing gown over her pale white night shift, tapping her toes into her slippers and pulling her long braid over one shoulder. Giving one last smiling look at the snoring figure of Rose, Rey slipped out of the room, into the hall, and out into the brisk morning air.

Wrapping her arms around herself, drawing in close to her night dress in the chill, she took the well-worn path from the front of the house that turned right and extended out into the fields beyond. The household barn loomed in the distance, a dark blot on a sea of gray and green, barely illuminated in the soft light of pre-dawn. She made her careful way toward it, avoiding ruts in the packed earth from years of wagon wheels and rain, gracefully leaping large puddles of muddy water, laughing when the hem of her night gown dipped down in the mess.

As she reached the barn, she tapped her shoes free of filth and shook out the hem of her white gown, now stained black with the taint of rich earth. She didn’t mind, and hurried into the barn to get to work, taking a seat on a long wooden bench and pulling a box of tools toward her.

Carefully picking through each of the items within the box, her memory was called back to a time when Luke had gifted her with the box, shortly after he had taken her orphan self in from the streets. She had not been very trustworthy of him at that time, though her young heart was eager to be loved, to have family. He had noticed that she, unused to the country life of the gentry, had not yet given up her act of scavenging. She would spend most of her hours outside, wandering the countryside, returning with stray items found abandoned or lost: a broken axe, an ornate music box covered with rust and grime, a watch with no face, the discarded wheel of a wagon. She had taken to piling these items within the barn, and Luke, discovering her stash one afternoon, said not a single negative word to her, but the next day presented her with a box of tools that she could use whenever she liked, and even showed her how to use them to tinker with the lost items she had claimed, improve them, fix them, and give them new purpose.

Rey remembered this fondly, brushing her hand over the smooth wooden handle, and tried to draw herself from the melancholy memory of the past. The years before Luke had been horrifying and left her with issues, issues she knew she was still trying to overcome, issues of abandonment, of mistrust, of anger and resentment. But she was hopeful of the person she had become. She had people that she trusted, she knew them and loved them. She had found a home. The idea that she and her sisters might lose this home brought an aching fear into her heart that she disliked and wanted very much to destroy.

Never one to give in to feelings of hopelessness, Rey banished them from her mind and instead spent the morning working, her thoughts and focus intent on the rubble around her. Perusing the piles of scavenged items from over the years, Rey settled on trying to fashion a mini-wagon, a gift she would give to Kay-D and Bee Bee, so that he could run around dragging items within the wagon like a little fairy steed. She imagined that Kay-D would love nothing more than another toy to keep her one foot in childhood, and Rey was eager to help her stay there. Perhaps if time slowed, their predicament would improve.

Time passed quickly on and as Rey tightened nuts and bolts on the body of the mini-wagon, her stomach gave a loud protesting growl of hunger. Forced to seek nourishment, she abandoned her project to be finished at a later time, taking the walk back to Longbourn at a brisk and cheerful pace. The sun was quite high in the sky by then, and she could smell the faint wafting odor of bacon from the kitchens at the back of the house.

“Good morning, m’dear” Leia spoke to her warmly, kissing her cheek as Rey stepped into the house. “Oh dear, look at your hem.”

Rey kissed her cheek in return and laughed softly, shrugging her shoulders as she followed her into the dining room.

“The stain will come out.”

“But your night shirt-,” Leia wasn’t cross, however, and a ghost of a smile covered her lips. “I suppose old habits are hard to break.”

Rey nodded in agreement, seating herself between Rose and Jannah, the former of which was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, the latter stared blankly at her plate, eyes glassy with sleep.

“Good morning.” Rey said brightly. Rose smiled; Jannah grunted.

“Where is Luke?” Amilyn asked as she entered the room. “I wanted to ask him about his experience in the army.”

“Gone to town.” Leia sighed, reaching for the platter of bacon and depositing three pieces onto her plate. “London.”

“What?” All girls stated in unison.

“Yes, a problem arose with payment for the crops yielded from last season. He went to handle it himself, as finances can be a delicate issue.”

All jumped as a small, elongated scrapper of fluff came skidding into the room, nails clacking on wooden floorboard as Bee Bee the corgi ran circles around the table, yipping happily and pausing to nip Amilyn at the ankles, before taking off in the other direction. Ami had barely exclaimed her annoyance when Kay-D came bounding into the room, a wooden sword in her hand.

“Have at thee, villain!” She roared, brandishing the sword at Bee Bee. He snarled and bounded away, bouncing out of the room into the hall, Kay-D taking off after him.

“No! Young lady,” Leia shouted, rising from the table and following her. “Come, eat your breakfast. Let me have that.”

Kaydel pouted and exclaimed the lack of fairness at this injustice as Leia ripped the wooden sword out of her hand and tossed it aside, steering her youngest girl toward the table. Pulling out her seat with one hand, she guided Kaydel into it with the other, and took her seat with very little fuss. Bee Bee, realizing he was no longer being chased, ran back into the room and fell into a tired ‘sploot’ on the floor, long tongue hanging out of his mouth and ears pert and attentive as he panted happily.

The room fell into relatively comfortable silence as everyone around the table began to eat. Amilyn picked delicately at her food, Jannah tore pieces of bread away and slowly stuffed them in her mouth, Rose sawed away at her bacon, gaze far off and somewhere else, and Rey had already almost cleared her whole plate. Kaydel was throwing little bits of bacon over her shoulder for Bee Bee after ever bite she took, hoping that Leia wouldn’t notice. Leia stared contemplatively into her cup of coffee, dark circles beneath her drooping eyes.

Just as Rey was wondering how long Leia had stayed up crying, a servant came into the room with a platter and extended it down low over Leia’s shoulder, announcing that two letters had arrived. Leia took them from the platter and the servant turned to leave, flipping through both of the letters with narrowed brows.

“Hm. Rey, this one is addressed to you. And Rose, you have one as well. It’s from Netherfield!”

Rey’s chewing stopped and Rose’s knife clattered to the table.

“Really?” Rose choked, scrambling to her feet and rushing to accept the letter from Leia’s outstretched hand. Rey stood and crossed behind her, taking her letter from Leia’s outstretched hand and gazing at the writing on the front in confusion. She recognized the lettering, but couldn’t quite place who it belonged to. She stowed the letter in the pocket of her dressing gown and read Rose’s expression as her eyes pored over the letter in her hands.

“Is is from Millicent Hux.” Rose muttered distractedly, eyes rapidly flicking back and forth as she tore through the page. “She has invited me to dine with her!”

The girls around the room exploded into exclamations of joy, gratitude, and congratulations.

“Her brother will be dining out…” Rose read on, the joy in her voice falling flat.

“Dining out?” Leia repeated questioningly. “Why on earth would he be dining out?”

“Perhaps he isn’t interested afterall.” Amilyn uttered quietly, wilting at a sharp look from Leia. 

“You will still go. You cannot overlook this sort of opportunity.” Leia uttered in a comforting tone, drawing Rose into her arms. “My dear girl, I wish Luke had not gone into town. You’ll have to go on horseback as the carriage is gone.”

As if by providence or some mighty, fateful fury, a loud clash of thunder chose that moment to rumble throughout the countryside. Rey watched Rose’s face closely for sign of hesitation or change of mind. “You do not have to go,” She said softly. “You cannot think of riding in the rain, Rose.”

“It’s only a bit of rain.” Leia countered.

“I want to go,” Rose assured, smiling comfortingly at Rey. “It’s not that far to Netherfield.”

ꕥ

Hours after Rose had departed for Netherfield, bundled up in a long woolen coat against the misting rain and dressed in her third finest gown, Rey sat in the window of their bedroom, knees drawn up to her chest, staring out at the rain. Her mind wandered to thoughts of Rose, sending silent wishes of hope that the girl would be safe and that Millicent Hux wouldn’t devour her or turn her into a toad. She had long forgotten the fact that she had also received a letter at the same time as Rose, and remembered only when she turned to press a palm against the window seat and shift her body, her wrist brushing against something stiff within her pocket.

She fished within the deep pocket for the folded paper and withdrew it, taking a moment to examine the writing on the front once more. She hardly ever received letters and when she did, they were usually from her family only, never mysterious strangers with handwriting that seemed achingly familiar. She flipped the letter over and tore away the seal, unfolding it with deft fingers and setting about to reading.

_To Miss Rey Johnson of Longbourn,_

_I hope with all that is in me that this letter finds you well and in good health. It has taken me quite a while to locate your current whereabouts, as I am sure will be apparent once you remember who I am and hear why I am writing to you. I pray there resides for me some love within your heart, even after all these long years of silence._

Rey flipped the letter over to the back and scanned quickly down to the closing at the bottom of the page, her heart hammering heavy in her chest as she took in the large, scrolling letters of the signature. “ _With all my love, Finnegan Johnson”_ it read. She stared at it, eyes instantly blurring with heavy tears, and she sat up quickly in her seat, distractedly palming at her cheeks as the tears began to fall, one by one.

“Finn?” She breathed, flipping the letter over and blinking the tears from her eyes, annoyed at the difficulty she found at reading with blurry sight.

_I pray there resides for me some love within your heart, even after all these long years of silence. Additionally, I pray that you can find it in your heart to forgive me for such an impasse. I wanted so very much to reach out to you, but each letter that I sent to all the many places we used to stay in London were returned to me months later. I worried that it meant your life had been taken from you, and I spent many years in agony and mourning and grief. I learned only last winter that was not the case, as I happened upon an acquaintance of Mr. Luke Skywalker who mentioned that he had taken in a, forgive the language, street urchin by the name of Rey Johnson. I cannot begin to express the relief and gratitude I felt to hear your name again._

_I must explain the reason for which I have not reached out to you until now. Firstly, it took me much time to locate the address of Mr. Skywalker and, secondly, I have been deployed in the colonies of India, of all places, where rebellions happen frequently and many a personal drama amongst the officers is common. It was always my intention to spend my leave coming to visit you in England, however things have taken a very different turn than what I originally planned. I am defecting from the army. It is treasonous, I know, and I may lose my life, but circumstances here have led me to fear for it anyway. I am in danger here and I must leave._

_I write now to tell you of my coming, in the hopes that you and your family will be able to welcome me in with open arms. I have nowhere else to turn. You are the only friend I have in the entire world, and without you I have no salvation._

_I know I left you alone when I enlisted. I know that it was frightening for you, despite your assurance that you would be fine. I regret it every moment of my life, and I hope there will be no anger in your heart when we are reunited._

_With all my love,_

_Finnegan Johnson_

Rey swallowed thickly, the paper shaking within her trembling fingers. She read it again, and a third time, then folded the paper up and looked at the postmark. It had been posted from a port city along the Atlantic coast of Africa. “ _So he was already on his journey then, when he sent it_ ” she thought, trying to calculate when it could be that he would arrive. Letters tended to move faster than travelers, but only just barely. He couldn’t be more than a fortnight away from Longbourn.

Rey rose swiftly to her feet, swaying at sudden vertigo and pressing a palm to her forehead. Her childhood friend, the only person in the world who had meant anything to her before Luke had taken her in, he had found her! She spent so many years thinking he was dead, imagining him blown up or rammed through by a bayonet, his blood seeping into that bloody redcoat he wore as a soldier. She wasn’t sure how to handle this information, knowing that she would have to alert Luke and Leia and beg them to take him in. There was no question in her mind as to whether she could forgive him. To Rey, there was nothing to forgive.

She changed quickly, taking her hair down and brushing quickly through it, throwing it halfway up in a partial bun, before grabbing the letter and running into the hall. She knocked at Leia’s door and, when there was no response, took the stairs three at a time, sliding into the hallway before Luke’s study. “Leia?” She called out, passing from room to room, stepping over the discarded wooden sword from breakfast this morning.

“In the drawing room,” came a soft call.

Rey followed the voice, relieved to see that Leia was alone. She collapsed into an armchair beside her, watching Leia pull thread through a soft eggshell colored fabric, embroidering yet another cushion, and made a face. Rey hated embroidery; sometimes life as a woman was so boring.

“Leia, when will Luke return from his trip to London?”

“Tomorrow evening,” Leia answered, not looking up from her embroidery. “Why?”

Rey hesitated. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Leia, but she wasn’t sure how the benevolent women would react to a soldier on the run. She waited too long to speak, however, and Leia looked up from her work, noting her hesitation.

“What is the matter, Rey?”

“I-,” Rey paused, chewing on her bottom lip, then cleared her throat and continued. “The letter I received this morning, you remember?”

“Yes. I did think that was peculiar. Was it from Aunt Threepio and Uncle Artoo?”

“No.” Rey shook her head then pulled the letter from the pocket of her skirts. She held it in slightly trembling hands, taking a deep breath before continuing. “When I lived in London… before… I had a friend who was very dear to me. He was a bit older than me, but we helped one another survive. He even taught me to read.”

“He sounds like an excellent friend.” Leia complimented, head tilting slightly as she mused. “Did something happen to him? Luke says you were entirely alone when he discovered you.”

“No, well… not back then, anyway. He enlisted in the army. He was a teenager and I still a young girl. The authorities in the town had threatened more than once to throw him in jail if he didn’t find a suitable source of income. His only option was the military, being a child from the gutters.” Rey explained carefully, finding her utterance of the story soothing as Leia received the information without passing any judgement, her face calm.

“As I had no permanent address, I never received any of his letters while he was off in service, until now that is. The letter is from him.”

“Oh, what wonderful news!” Leia exclaimed, smiling warmly. “I’m sure it feels lovely to hear from an old friend.”

“Yes,” Rey went on hurriedly, half shaking her head. “Except not really. He tells me… he tells me that he’s in trouble. That he needs my help.”

Leia’s smile fell into a half-frown. She did not speak immediately, but looked down to her embroidery again, pulling another few threads through thoughtfully. “What sort of trouble is he in?”

Rey felt like she might burst into tears at any moment. “He’s defecting from the army.”

“What?” Leia dropped her embroidery in her lap, realizing just how shaken Rey was about the situation. “Dear girl, whatever would persuade him to do such a thing?”

“I don’t know,” She hiccupped, feeling betrayed by her own anatomy as a tear slid down her cheek. “He didn’t say, only that if he didn’t defect then he would have been in danger, which I don’t understand. You know what will happen if they find him, a … a traitor.”

Leia stood briskly and grabbed Rey by both hands, pulling her into a tight and warm, motherly embrace. Rey clung to her, attempting to level her breathing as she melted into the older woman’s hold.

“We will not let that happen.” She whispered soothingly, her hand against the back of Rey’s head. “Luke and I will give you all the help you need to protect this young fellow.”

“Ah-,” Rey melted with relief, more tears sliding down her cheeks. “I am so… so thankful for the both of you, I have no idea how to ever repay you.”

“You need not. Your love is enough.” Leia murmured softly.

For the first time that day, Rey’s thoughts were drawn back to the handsome yet horrible Ben Solo, the son of this most wonderful woman. She could not understand why that man would turn away from the love of such a woman, why he would treat her with scorn and derision. Rey promised then and there to never do such a thing to Leia. She would never disappoint her like Mr. Ben Solo had.

“He will likely be here within a fortnight. He posted this letter not long ago at a colony on the west coast of Africa.”

“Well, when he arrives, we will make a space for him.”

“Thank you, Leia.” Rey reiterated, pulling away from her embrace and wiping the tears from her cheeks. “Will there be any danger for us if they find we have given him quarter?”

“Yes.” Leia spoke candidly, sinking back onto the sofa and returning to her embroidery, running her fingers over the stitching she had done so far. “However, my late husband had many ties to, well, I’ll say less than savory individuals. We can get him new papers, a new identity, and all will be well with time. I’ll write the letter this evening and have it out with tomorrow’s post. Don’t worry about it at all.”

The knot that had been growing within her the past hour began to loosen with sweet relief, and Rey sank easily into the armchair once more, rubbing her thumb affectionately over her name on the front of the folded letter.

“Any word from Rose?” she muttered with curiosity, after quite a long moment of silence. Leia chuckled softly, nodding with great emphasis, and pulled a letter of her own out from under the vase on the side table between them.

“Funny you bring that up.” She said, handing the small piece of paper to Rey. She scanned it quickly, her eyes flicking to Leia’s in alarm.

“She’s ill?” Rey sat up straighter, feeling a sudden spark of irritation toward the woman she was so thankful for a moment before. “Why did you make her go? The storm… she has a fever!”

Leia laughed conspiratorially and snatched the paper back out of her hands. “Oh posh. She has a minor cold, and I did NOT make her go. She chose to go of her own free will.”

Rey thought that was mincing words, and frowned begrudgingly, rising to her feet.

“Are we going to go get her?”

“With what carriage?”

Rey sank back into her seat, realizing this whole situation could not be more frustrating.

“Besides, she’ll have to stay the night as it is. And if she stays longer, being too ill to travel, that means more time with Mr. Hux.”

Rey was beside herself with worry and knew in her heart she could not be so optimistic as her. “I must go to Netherfield at once.”

“In the morning, dear.” Leia nodded toward the window at the pouring rain and the setting sun. “You wouldn’t want to be trapped there as well, now would you?”

_No_ , Rey thought to herself. She wouldn’t like to be trapped there. But her worry for Rose consumed her. She would leave at first light the next day. Hopefully Rose would be just fine until then.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Is not the mere presence of the mighty Ben Solo distracting in itself?”
> 
> “If you think it so, perhaps. Many women find me distracting.”
> 
> “That is not what I meant.”
> 
> Rey visits Netherfield to tend to a poor, sickly Rose, and has to put up with snobby rich people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are reading, have a big, fat THANK YOU! I hope you continue to love this silly story of mine. Another reminder that I do not have a Beta reader so errors will be frequent, though I do my best to catch them myself. If you have any helpful critiques, they are welcome! 
> 
> Rey and Ben finally have a deeper interaction in this chapter! I've found it challenging yet extremely exciting to try to write banter between the two of them. At least I'm having fun. Enjoy! <3

Ben Solo absolutely despised mornings at Netherfield but he was far too polite to say anything. The source of his derision was none other than the chatty Miss Millicent Hux seated beside him at the breakfast table, the sister of his closest friend, a woman who was not very good at hiding her desire for him. He did not have much patience for women who threw themselves at his feet for his money, though for Hux, he had all the patience in the world. And so he put up with Millicent’s machinations, allowing her to entertain the thought of becoming Mrs. Ben Solo in the future.

He hadn’t always been so loyal to Hux. In fact, there had once been a time when they were the purest, most loathsome of enemies. They had known each other since their youth, spending the years together at a fancy academy for the sons of wealthy men. Armitage Hux’s father made his money the old-fashioned way: inheritance and investment. Ben Solo’s father made it the barely legal way: as a privateer (pirate) for the British navy in the East India Trading Company. His ship, the _Millennium Falcon_ , had a notoriety on the high seas that many a sailor would whisper a prayer just at the mention of its name. Mr. Han Solo, captain of the _Falcon_ , would attack enemy merchant ships of the EITC and steal their belongings, turning in a portion to those hiring him. It was a lucrative business, but Han was especially good at it due to his propensity to hide portions of the loot and smuggle it into the black markets of Asian countries, effectively deceiving the EITC on how much they had obtained and receiving a higher cut.

Young boys who play with daddy’s money are ruthless if they feel you do not belong. For the first few years in Ben’s educational life, he was repeatedly ganged up on and bullied by many of his peers, Armitage included. The attacks grew more brutal and vicious as the years went on, until, when Ben had turned 14 and Armitage 13, one of the more cruel boys in the school made a plan to lure Ben into the woods surrounding the school and cause his “accidental death”. It turned out that Hux, while fine to sneer and tease Ben about his dirty money, had a conscience, and he drew the line at murder. He had revealed the plan to Ben, who distrusted him at first, but when he failed to show in the woods, one of the other boys ratted on Hux, and the ringleader had him beaten and thrown into the well instead. Hux had gone missing for a full day and a half, and it only occurred to Ben later where to look for him, after the ringleader boy could not resist gloating to him about what had happened. Ben had been the one to pull Armitage out of the well. Ben had been the one to drag him back, half-dead and body broken, to the hospital wing. And Ben had been the one to finally snap and beat the bloody hell out of the sociopathic boy who had caused all of this, winding up suspended from school for the rest of term.

But that summer, after he had healed significantly, Armitage Hux visited Ben at his godmother’s home and, after convincing his parents (which didn’t take much), he ended up spending the rest of the summer there with him. They became fast friends, and Ben soon discovered that, as far as people he could count on and trust, Armitage was one of the only in the entire world.

So Ben Solo put up with Millicent’s giggles and intrigue, sighing as he shook out the morning’s paper in front of him, taking a long sip of coffee, hoping she would take the hint that he’d rather be reading and not conversating.

“I’ve heard there’s a new tea arriving from the Indie’s, something… something chai, I believe.” She tried, stirring a tiny silver spoon slowly around her teacup, leaned forward so far in her chair with her arms squished up around her bosom she looked ridiculous, though in her mind, Ben Solo surely wouldn’t be able to resist such a beautiful glimpse of pale flesh. Yet, infuriatingly, he did not look her way, merely grunted softly and kept his eyes on the paper before him.

“How long has it been since you were in India, Mr. Solo?” She inquired, hoping to get a response at least with a question. It was many awkward seconds before he responded, not deigning to look up from his newspaper.

“Two months now I returned from India. Why do you ask?”

“Well, I have always wanted to go.” She sighed dreamily, tapping her little spoon lightly on the side of her teacup and laying it down on a napkin, raising the cup carefully to her lips. “Do take Armitage and I with you on your next journey.”

“Armitage has no reason nor desire to go to India.” Ben uttered between his teeth, still fixated on his paper.

“Then you will just have to take me by yourself.” She gave a tinkling laugh, obviously thinking herself clever.

Ben lowered the paper so fast, it crumpled in his lap. “Miss Hux, I do not find that to be prop-,”

“A Miss Johnson has arrived, sir and madame, from Longbourn. Shall I show her in?” a silver clad servant called from his post at the door.

“Who?” Millicent scoffed and gave Ben a self-righteous smirk. “We haven’t invited any Miss Johnson.”

“Yes, show her in, Steven.” Ben called, folding his paper up impatiently and tossing it onto the tabletop. “She is here to see her sister, most obviously.”

“Oh, her? Rey Johnson, I believe it was?” Millicent sighed as she leaned back in her chair, draping an elegantly clad wrist over one knee and sipping the tea. “I forgot all about her.”

Ben hadn’t.

In fact, he felt an almost peculiar sense of familiarity as she entered the room, drinking in her appearance from head to toe. He recognized immediately the signs of her poverty, the torn sleeve of her light brown gown, the patchwork stitching where a hole had once been in the skirt, the fraying at the seams on her bodice. He’d had to notice such things for his survival, to avoid being taken in by women who would chase him only for his money. Somehow, Miss Johnson did not give him that impression whatsoever. Yet the way she looked at him, as she looked at him now, sent an electric thrill down his spine, her pretty brown eyes filled with fire and challenge. He wasn’t so sure what it was about those eyes that appealed to him, but he was fascinated, so much so that he forgot his manners as a gentleman and had remained seated for far too long.

He rose far too abruptly, his large, masculine frame bumping the table and rattling the china as he bumbled to his feet and bowed in Rey’s direction, running a nervous hand through his black wavy hair as he rose. An awkward silence followed in which Ben felt all of the mistakes of decorum he had just made, and knew, just knew, that this stranger before him was judging him for his lack of measuring up as a gentleman.

Rey cleared her throat softly, looking from Ben to Millicent and back, feeling entirely out of place in this immaculate and opulent finery. The breakfast room stretched out before her, the length of an actual ballroom, and light poured in from the most beautiful windows, while Ben and Millicent had most clearly just finished up their breakfast and looked as if ready to attend the most lavish ball. The only thing keeping her from fleeing back to the countryside was the thought of Rose, sick, surrounded by such wealth and snobbery. She had come here for her, she just needed to remind herself of that.

“Good Lord, Miss Johnson, did you walk here?” Millicent broke the silence first, her words incredulous and demanding barbs that were intended to dismay and embarrass.

Ben watched as Rey’s cheeks filled with the lightest of a pink blush, her warm, honey eyes shining, wisps of soft brown hair gently framing her delicate face. A rush of blood flooded in every direction, most notably downward, and Ben cleared his throat uncomfortably and shifted, directing his gaze to the bottom of her gown. It was caked with mud, though her boots, he noted, were relatively clean. A woman who would walk miles for a beloved sister, caked in mud, dressed in rags and displayed before riches, yet took the time to clean off her boots before entering another home, Ben had never met such a peculiar woman before. His eyes met hers, her chin held high, and the sweet honey of her eyes became liquid fire.

“I’m so sorry, er… how is my sister?” Rey spoke evenly, twisting her gloves in her hands.

Ben Solo was impressed. He had met her the night of the ball and his first impression of her was less than pleasant. Though, he had to admit he hadn’t been in the best of moods. Large crowds of strangers tended to make his head ache. His first judgement of this woman had seemed to be in error, however.

“She’s upstairs.” He uttered softly, gesturing toward the elaborately carved marble staircase just through the French doors to the right.

“Thank you.” Rey managed to breathe and curtsied hurriedly before bustling off in the direction of the stairwell.

Ben still stood a moment longer, staring through the doorway she had just exited.

“Did you see her hem? Six inches deep in mud.” Millicent sniggered, her eyes rolling back in her head. “She looked positively medieval.”

Ben Solo finally sank to his seat, finishing off his coffee in one gulp, and said in a monotone voice “She showed great love of her sister, coming all this way as such.” And he rose from his seat and exited the room through the other entrance, leaving Millicent behind him, gaping like a codfish.

ꕥ

Rey tiptoed up the immaculately shining marble staircase, still wringing her lace gloves in both hands, her stomach a bundle of nerves. She’d felt so embarrassed, having to stand before the pair of them in their French imported silk and golden buckles, the object of their rarefied and arrogant scrutiny. For the first time since her found-again life, she had felt small and insignificant, a big, stinking nobody, though no one in her new family had ever made her feel that way.

And Ben Solo was the worst of them. From the moment she stepped into that gaudy room she could feel his eyes on her, supposing he was examining her every fault and finding her wanting. It was more than she could bear, knowing that he had given up a life with loved ones in favor of the sport of wealth. It sickened her, and she was quite sure that she was beginning to hate him, though she had never hated anyone in her twenty years of life.

Focusing on her purpose, keeping Rose at the forefront of her mind, Rey hesitated at the top of the stairs, finding herself at the helm of an enormous marble landing decorated with expensive and colorful paintings, delicate China vases on pedestals, and a marble carving of Eros and Psyche, reclined on a couch in an amorous embrace. She had never witnessed so much wealth in all of her life, and she momentarily thanked whatever gods were listening that it was Rose having to romance this wealthy individual and not her.

The marble landing went in three different directions, all hallways with plenty of doors, and Rey was unsure of where to go next. She waited a few moments longer, listening for any sound that could clue her in to her direction, swearing to herself that she would not go back downstairs and ask the arrogant pair in the breakfast room for further direction. However, a maid coming up the stairs saved her from further exposure to wealthy snobs, and gladly pointed her down the correct hallway. Rey hurried on to the left, until the end, where the maid had directed, and slowed as she approached the door to Rose’s guest room, hearing voices from within.

“Your… hair is very pretty.” A male voice was uttering softly, intimately. Rose laughed weakly and gave a muffled groan. Rey imagined she had covered her face with a hand.

“Well, thank you. I am sure you are over-embellishing the truth. What woman’s hair is “very pretty” after laying in bed ill for a day.”

“Yours,” the voice uttered matter-of-factly. Rey figured it was Armitage, and could not help the sly grin that burst upon her cheeks to bear witness to this awkward flirtation. She knew it would be wrong to listen further, but Rey was never one to ignore the call of curiosity.

“Oh…” Rose uttered, either breathless with flattery or illness, perhaps both.

“May I?”

“Sure.”

Silence followed. Rey was unsure what was happening, for they were no longer speaking, and was indignant to think that perhaps Hux was trying to lay one on her while she was ill. She poked her head as slowly and carefully as she could around the door, hoping to not be caught but fully ready to own up to it if she did, and was surprised to find she did not need to worry about being seen. A curtain hanging from the large four-poster bed in the middle of the room had been drawn halfway, and Rey could only see the shoulder of Armitage Hux and his long arm extended over the lumpy form of what could only be her sister’s body, laying in bed. He was sitting with her, leaning over her, a most innapropriate position for two young, unmarried people, but Rey wasn’t about to interrupt.

“It is very soft…” Hux muttered distractedly. “It would be nice if ladies could wear their hair down more freely.”

“Oh?” Rose squeaked. Rey recognized weakness in her voice, a kind that had nothing to do with illness. “Why is that?”

Hux did not respond.

“You do not have to say. I don’t wish to be improper.” Rose stated almost immediately.

“Ah, Rose-,” Hux breathed out with a gentle laugh. “I believe it is I who is being improper.”

It was Rose’s turn to be silent.

“Is the room comfortable for you? The temperature is fine, yes? I can have fresh linens brought up, and of course if you wished to take another bath-,”

Rey watched as Rose’s hand appeared out of the curtain and rested lightly on Hux’s flexed forearm.

“No, no, thank you. You’ve done so much for me already. I couldn’t stand to be a burden.”

“You are no burden.” He countered, taking her hand in his own. A light pressing of lips to skin could be heard, and Rose sighed almost inaudibly.

Rey, unwilling to eavesdrop any moment longer, slipped back into the hallway and pressed her body flat against the wall, calling out in a loud voice “Rose? Are you down here?”

Within the room, a mattress creaked and a scuffle of large, heavy feet swished upon the carpet. Rey counted to five before she bustled into the room, giving Hux a friendly grin as he strode across the room to take her hand, bowing lightly to her and gesturing to a chair by Rose’s bed. “Miss Johnson, I am so glad you are here. Rose has been improving since the doctor’s visit.”

“I’m sure, with such lavish attention as you have been giving her.” Rey agreed, turning to smile knowingly at her sister, who was red from hairline to bosom hem and making herself busy with shifting her pillows.

“Of course, I wouldn’t dream of anything else.” Armitage stated warmly, clasping his hands and glacing from sister to sister. A pregnant pause stretched between them.

“Well, I’ll let you two catch up. And please, Miss Johnson, stay as long as you like.” He bowed once more before taking his leave from the room, closing the door gently behind him.

“I know he kissed you this time.” Rey stated the moment he had gone.

Rose almost turned purple. “No, Rey,” she whined exhaustedly, resting the back of her hand on her forehead and closing her eyes. “He merely kissed my hand. He is, as I keep telling you, a perfect gentleman.”

“Mm, yes. I suppose he is.” Rey countered with a laugh. “Just be careful who sees you. I’m sure his sister would love nothing more than to accuse your virtue tainted.”

“No, I am certain she would never.” Rose countered, shaking her head. “This is her home as well and she has been kind to let me stay here.”

Rey did not agree but said nothing more, instead taking Rose’s hand in both of her own. “How are you feeling?”

“Poor, but much better than I was before.” Rose coughed softly, wiping her nose on the sleeve of her nightgown. “The doctor gave me medicinal herbs and those have been helping.”

“Good.” Rey nodded, releasing Rose’s hand to reach for a pouch concealed in the pocket of her dress. “Do you know how much the doctor’s visit cost? I must pay them back.”

“Oh no, Rey. Please don’t. Armitage was so kind and so eager. He offered to pay and insisted I not even think about returning the money. I would hate to insult him.”

Rey smiled softly, realizing for once just how real the situation was. Rose had never met a person she did not like, but it was a rare thing for her to find a person for which she’d defend at such great lengths. Apparently Armitage Hux was doing a very good job of wooing her sister.

“Fine. I won’t insult him with talk of money.” Rey agreed, taking her hand once more and laying down beside her on the bed, watching her sister’s eyes flutter closed with exhaustion. Rose smiled and pulled Rey’s arm over her, snuggling back against her sister.

“Will you stay?” She asked softly.

“Until you fall asleep.” Rey agreed, resting her chin on Rose’s arm.

“Good.” Rose whispered contentedly.

ꕥ

A half hour later, Rey was tiptoeing back downstairs, wondering just what filthy rich people did to while away the time. The house was enormous, so much so that she encountered not a single soul as she walked hesitantly through the enormous hallway that ran the length of the house on the first floor. She passed two ballrooms and three cozy sitting rooms with beautifully carved marble fireplaces, a dining room filled with Grecian columns and ancient style braziers on the walls, unlit in the day. Nothing in the house needed lighting, for there were so many windows that the sunlight happily filtered in every which way, giving the home a sense of joyous glory that Rey had never seen in a dwelling. The large hallway ended many fathomless yards from the front door in three sets of French doors that opened onto a marble veranda which led into a small yet well-tended garden beyond. Rey stood staring through those doors for a while, not envying Rose for her relationship with this man. She would have no idea what to do with all this wealth and beauty.

She turned and made her way down a smaller hallway, the entrance of which was somewhat concealed within a small alcove to the left of the veranda doors. The hallway ended abruptly in a marble carved archway, which opened onto one of the most beautiful libraries Rey had ever seen. She slipped inside, knowing it would take her ages to find Mr. or Miss Hux anyway, and it didn’t seem like it could harm, examining all of his books.

She trailed one finger along the spines as she walked, amused to find not a single speck of dust. The library in their home had quite a lot of dust, so much so that one could usually tell what another in the house had been reading, for it would be the only book clean.

Rey was not a voracious reader, she preferred being outside in nature and tinkering with objects, but she appreciated them, and did find leisure in reading many a tome. Books were a luxury she could not obtain as a child. Even when she had learned to read, it was from pamphlets and newspapers she and Finn had managed to scrounge from bins and gutters. She hadn’t touched a book until she’d gone to Longbourn.

Snatching a volume of Grecian myths from the shelves, she slid into an overstuffed emerald green armchair, curled her legs beneath her, and let it fall open in her lap to where it willed, content to read as fate designed. Her eyes roamed over the words, elbow propped on the arm of the chair, cheek in her hand, soft brown hair draped over one shoulder, the warm light filtering in from the window behind her rimming her in a golden glow.

It was to this angelic looking creature Mr. Ben Solo was presented as he stepped into the library, and the beauty of this picture forced him to halt in the archway. He examined her, noting for the first time the subtle bronze hue of her skin, the rounded knot of the small bun on the top half of her head, the shape of her arms and, most of all, the warmth of her eyes when gazing upon something fresh and new. Ben was not sure he had ever met such a strangely beautiful woman, and he momentarily questioned his sanity at the thought. Rey Johnson was not like other women: an accomplished English woman must be pale, and soft, her hair never unkempt, clothing never dirty, and of course they must never sit slumped and curled in expensive furniture, or allow their cheeks to smush unattractively in their palms, even in private.

He cleared his throat quite loudly, to make his presence known to her, and tugged on the cravat at his throat, suddenly feeling uncomfortably warm. He blamed the damned windows, Netherfield had so many, thus the sun was always warming the interior.

Rey looked up from her book as he crossed into the room, noting how few steps it took him to move from doorway to center with those long legs of his. She eyed him head to toe, appreciating his large, muscular frame, and wondered for the first-time what Han Solo must have looked like to produce a son so handsome.

“I am sorry to disturb. I needed to write a letter.” Ben stated, taking a seat at a writing desk and pulling a sheaf of paper toward him. “I will not be a distraction.”

“No? Is not the mere presence of the mighty Ben Solo distracting in itself?” Rey mused aloud, a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

“If you think it so, perhaps.” Ben stated drily. “Many women find me distracting.”

Rey snapped her book shut, feeling warmth tingle in her cheeks. “That is not what I meant.”

Ben did not reply but gave her a sardonic look that spoke volumes. Their eyes held one another in a stare for a few beats; Rey looked away first, and Ben reached for a pen, dipping it in the bottle of ink and tapping it on the glass to remove the excess.

Rey did not open her book again but instead sat tapping her fingers against it’s cover, glancing between Ben and the doorway and contemplating taking her book to another location to continue reading. Her skin itched and crawled and her only thought was how much she couldn’t stand him and how to slip away without being impolite. But the problem with leaving was that it felt like allowing him to win. Rey didn’t like losing. She was here first and she was going to stay.

So she opened her book again with a sigh, trying her best to focus on the words as she noted, in the corner of her gaze, he was looking at her again. Watching her. Perhaps he thought she could not see, but it irritated her beyond belief.

“What are you reading?” Ben’s voice cut through the silence between them.

Rey glanced up, surprised to be addressed again by the lofty gentleman, and placed her finger on the sentence she had last read so as not to lose her place.

“The Abduction of Persephone.” She stated calmly, then turned back to her book, raising it to her face as an indication to him that she did not want to be spoken to.

“Ah, a favorite amongst unmarried women.” He laughed softly.

A small voice in the back of Rey’s mind warned that he was baiting her, but she impulsively replied before she could think better of it, snapping her book shut with more vehemence than was warranted.

“And why is that?”

Ben shrugged his massive shoulders, suit jacket straining, pen growing still within his hand, hovering an inch above the paper. “Is it not every unmarried woman’s dream to be whisked off by a handsome and powerful man? A ruler, even more so?”

“I suppose many women aspire to such ill-advised goals, however, Persephone was not in a position as to need the help of a man.” Rey scoffed, continuing before Ben could reply. “She was the goddess of springtime, she had her own job, her own position. Hades robbed her of that.”

Ben stared at her in scrutiny, then lowered his eyes back to his page, scrolling out words in neat, looping letters, as he stated acerbically “Do all women think thus of marriage, as simply another economic transaction?”

“And you do not?” Rey felt the heat rise in her cheeks, but this time she knew it came from irritation and impatience at such an ignoble attitude from him, of all people. “Tell me, Mr. Solo, would you marry for anything **but** money?”

Ben was quickly becoming frustrated, his letter forgotten, and he pierced her with such a fierce glare that Rey actually shrunk back into the armchair.

“What of passion? Love?” He quipped, running his free hand nervously through his obsidian mane and gesturing to nowhere with the hand holding the pen. “Do any-,”

“I forgot,” Rey interrupted coolly, narrowing her eyes at him as she stood to leave, having absolutely enough of this ridiculous conversation with this ridiculous man. “I suppose a man of your wealth and stature never has to worry about money and his position in the world.”

With that she turned on her heal, dropping the book of Grecian myths onto the cushion of her seat, and ran straight into the solid chest of Armitage Hux who had just come through the door. She bounced off of him and staggered, having run into him with quite force, so eager was she to leave. He caught her by the wrist and helped her right herself, laughing jovially and taking in the scene of the room.

“Miss Johnson, we were looking for you. And Solo as well. All this time you were here in the library together.” He smiled sweetly as Millicent followed him into the room, part of the ‘we’ he had been referring to.

“Yes,” Millicent pouted, eyes flicking suspiciously from Ben to Rey and back. “Yes, I wanted to know, Miss Johnson, how long you’d be planning to stay with us.”

Rey swallowed thickly, brushing a strand of hair out of her face that had become misplaced in her tumble, and shrugged lightly. “Well, ah… at least until Rose is well enough to accompany me home. I am very sorry to impose. Is that quite alright?”

“Of course!” Millicent cried, too sweetly. She took both of Rey’s hands in her own and squeezed them, eying her filthy gown once more with a raised brow. “Did you happen to bring a change of clothes?”

“Oh,” Rey blushed with shame and irritation, pulling her hands away and burying them in her skirts. “I am sorry, I did not.”

“Brother,” Millicent called, turning to find Armitage, who had walked over to plop beside Ben, both of them lost in a quiet conversation.

“Yes, darling sister.” Armitage made a show of turning his whole body around to face her, back straight at attention.

“Do we still have those gowns left behind by the maid I dismissed the week last?”

Armitage frowned. Something dark flashed over Ben’s eyes.

“But Milly, why not just lend her one of your gowns?” Armitage questioned softly, smiling apologetically at Rey. “Surely they-,”

“Brother, dear, how could I lend something so fine and then take it away? We don’t need the gowns left behind by the maid. Miss Johnson can take them with her when she leaves.”

Rey had never wanted to slap another woman, nor storm out of a house screaming in rage, but she pictured it blissfully for a moment, then bit her cheek and acquiesced, doing it all for Rose. She momentarily wondered if Rose’s romantic tryst with Armitage would be worth it, if she had to put up with Millicent for a sister in law. Let the fancy rich woman dress her in the clothes of the help. Let snobby, errant son of Leia Organa-Solo sneer at her poverty. As soon as Rose was well, she could leave. And she’d never have to come back.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rey comes down with foot in mouth disease, Rose and Armitage grow closer, heat blooms between two hands, and Mr. Chewbacca comes for a visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Oh my goodness, I'm so EXHAUSTED. This is one of those chapters that just... take up space to make way for the rest of the story that I am very impatient to get to, but I tried my best to lay a great foundation. At least one of my favorite scenes in all cinema gets replicated here between our hard-headed, soon to be lovebirds (it has to do with hands and CLENCHING). I'll just say if you haven't seen the 2005 rendition of "Pride and Prejudice" with Keira Knightley and Matthew Macfadyen, are you even alive?!
> 
> Also... the formatting got really weird for me near the end and I spent an hour trying to fix it. No dice. I apologize if that bothers anyone!
> 
> Note about character roles in this chapter- kind spoilery if you want to find out naturally:
> 
> I'm so, so sorry I made Chewie Mr. Collins. I tried and tried to find a more suitable character and they were either too evil or not strange enough to turn down for marriage. I promise Rey will let him down easy when the time comes. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! Enjoy!

Rey sat, head held high, at an enormous dining table, one far too unnecessary for four people, though they were all clumped at one end, to be fair. She rubbed her arm uncomfortably over the plum sleeve of her “new” dress, trying to block the mortifying memory out of mind that she was wearing charitable hand-me-downs from someone these people probably did not even address by name, nor care for in any capacity. Even worse, the dress was nicer than any she herself owned by far, made of a soft linen with lace embroidery on the bodice and gathered ruching at the shoulders, a silk, high-waisted ribbon coming to an elegant bow between her shoulder-blades, the length of extra tumbling down her back. Though not half so fine as any dress Millicent had sported so far, Rey could not help but wonder how a servant could afford such a pretty gown. Perhaps servants pay working for a family such as the Hux’s was more generous than she had supposed.

Briefly entertaining the thought of how she could get into a lucrative business, thinking perhaps it could help her family very much, she did not hear or take note when Ben Solo addressed her from across the table. Fidgeting with her hands in her lap, she leaned back as a servant placed a bowl of pea soup in front of her, the aroma making her stomach growl with hunger. It took two more tries of Mr. Solo gently stating “Miss Johnson” then finally quite louder “Miss Johnson!” for her to notice he was addressing her.

“Hm?” She glanced up at him, their eyes meeting from across the table. “I’m sorry, you were speaking to me?”

Ben’s mouth, though pressed flat, curled just barely at the end as if he were amused. “Would you like some wine?”

Rey blinked at him, then smiled sheepishly, picking up her glass to offer it to him. “Yes. Please.”

“Are you feeling alright, Ms. Johnson?” Armitage questioned after swallowing a spoonful of soup.

“Yes, I’m so sorry.” Rey laughed nervously, taking her glass back from Ben, doing her best not to slosh any of the dark red liquid. “I was merely thinking of my sister.” She lied.

“It is unfortunate,” Armitage agreed, missing Millicent’s eyes rolling back in her head. “But she is recovering. All will be well, soon.”

“Thank you again for tending to my sister.” Rey spoke.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, she isn’t dead! Let’s talk about something a little more enjoyable, please?” Millicent cried, taking a deep gulp from her wine glass and shrugging unapologetically at a look from Armitage. “Mr. Solo, how is business going?”

“So we are to talk of money?” Armitage scoffed, a flash of anger in his eyes. “Is that it?”

“It goes well,” Ben interjected, a pained look in his eyes. “Though I doubt much of what I deal with could be entertaining dinner conversation. I would rather like to know how you keep this home so clean.”

Armitage’s mouth went from intemperate scowl to knowing grin. “Whatever do you mean?”

“Tell me, Armitage, do you still stress-clean?”

“I never stress-cleaned, I only,” Armitage chuckled and drank from his glass, running his free hand down the back of his neck. “Only tidy up a bit.”

Millicent gulped down a large amount of wine.

“He is all the time cleaning. In fact, it’s why I have yet to hire a new maid.”

Rey’s eyes took in the immaculate state of the dining room, not a speck of dust or filth was to be found, remembering the library to be in the same state.

“You clean your own home, Mr. Hux?” Rey questioned with bewilderment. It was not a strange behavior in her own home, as they could only afford a cook and one other servant who mostly ran errands, but for a gentleman such as he, it was extraordinarily odd.

“I-… I just-,” Armitage was becoming flustered, the tips of his ears reddening. “It’s a habit. I apologize. I simply cannot stand a single item or molecule to be out of place.”

Rey thought of Rose’s side of the wardrobe, an explosion of stockings and gowns and corsets and ribbons, wondering if she really was a suitable match for him based on this new revelation.

“You need not apologize for that which makes you unique.” Ben muttered over his bowl, spooning soup into his mouth and dabbing it briefly with a napkin.

“What a good friend you are, Mr. Solo” Millicent crooned. “Father tried to break him of the habit, but I suppose we all need to embrace our flaws.”

Rey was not sure who she disliked more, Millicent Hux or Ben Solo. In fact, it was becoming increasingly confusing to her to find herself on his side in this conversation, and agreeing with him, no less.

“Mr. Hux, how long have you had the pleasure of acquaintance with Mr. Solo?” Rey inquired.

“For quite a long time. We were friends in school as boys, though it was not always the case.” Armitage began, looking to Ben to finish the tale.

“We had a rough start,” Ben agreed, his eyes on his bowl, shoulders tense. “But perhaps the best relationships start off that way.”

“Or end that way, in the case of your mother.” Rey stated before realizing her thoughts had become words. The taste of pea green soup revisited the back of her mouth as Ben suddenly pierced her with a dark and monstrous glare.

Silence ballooned between them all, broken only by the sound of tinkling china as servants came to clear away the bowls, presenting them with plates of roast duck and boiled potatoes. Rey trembled nervously, pierced by Ben’s glare and unable to look away, feeling awful and horrible and not really actually very repentant at all, if she thought about it. Her feelings toward Mr. Solo had not changed one iota, but she regretted the impolite nature of what she had just said and where and how she’d said it.

“Mr. Solo and I hunted this duck yesterday, while Miss Tico was dining with my sister.” Armitage interjected with a nervous laugh, his voice an octave higher than usual. “He gave us quite the chase.”

No one responded. Ben’s nostrils were flared, his jaw clenched, his mountainous shoulders still. Slowly, as if with tremendous effort, he unclenched his jaw and, laying his hands flat on the table, spoke in a low, trembling voice, “And what would you know about my relationship with my mother?”

Rey was at a loss for what to say. Honestly, she knew very little about his relationship with Leia, only that he refused to visit her or treat her with respect or dignity. To Rey, who’s parents had sold her like an unwanted object, she could not fathom throwing away a loving mother who had given you the entire world, and her love along with it.

“Forgive me,” Rey uttered softly, finally tearing her eyes away from his and staring down at the piece of duck on her plate, watching slow curls of steam rise away. “I spoke out of turn.”

The dining room fell silent again. Moments passed, and Millicent, of all people, came to Rey’s salvation.

“We all have difficulties with our parents.” She stated quietly, her eyes intent on Ben’s face, who was still watching Rey. “I am sure she did not mean it as an insult. Right, Miss Johnson?”

“No, not at all.” Rey said barely above a whisper, looking up to find a fiery crucible of molten brown gaze upon her. A thrill went down her spine and she shivered, giving him her best placating smile, though it felt fake. “I am very sorry, Mr. Solo.”

Rey watched as he slowly released his hands, which had balled into fists so tight his knuckles had gone white. He glared down at his dinner plate then, and silently picked up his fork and knife and set about cutting his food into palatable pieces. He did not speak again for the remainder of the meal, Rey spoke only when spoken to, and the dinner passed on in relatively awkward silence. One thought made itself most prevalent in Rey’s mind as she made her way up the stairs after dinner to her guest room, and that was that, in addition to arrogance, pride, mindfulness only for those he cared about, Ben Solo also had a problem with his temper.

ꕥ

The next morning, Rey dressed in a puff-sleeved, light blue gown covered in tiny daisies embroidered out of white and yellow thread. A navy blue ribbon accentuated her waist and though this dress was also given in charity, she decided she rather loved it. Tying her hair up in a three-leveled bun woven with a matching navy ribbon, she slipped into the hallway and knocked gently on Rose’s door, rushing in the moment Rose called “Enter”.

“Are you feeling better?” Rey asked her, pleased to see Rose out of bed and seated at the vanity, combing her damp hair.

“My nose and head feel full of cotton but yes, I think so.” Rose mumbled stuffily. “I think I should like to go home now.”

“No more flirting with Mr. Hux, then?”

Rose’s cheeks bloomed. “To stay any longer would sour our relationship, I fear.”

Rey crossed the room quickly then, pulling the armchair beside the bed toward the vanity and seating close to Rose, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper.

“I made a mistake last night, Rose.”

“What do you mean?” Rose laid the comb down and began working her fingers through her hair to create a loose braid.

“I sort of confronted Ben about Leia…”

“Rey, you didn’t!” Rose gasped, piercing Rey with a disappointed look. “Wait… were you alone with him?”

“No, it’s worse.” Rey winced. “I did it at dinner. I just couldn’t help myself. I-,” She hesitated then, not wanting to ruin Rose’s relationship prospects with negativity. “I really just want to go home. This house, these people, they bring out the worst in me.”

Rose nodded, frowning deeply. She stared down at her dressing gown, picking at a loose white thread, then mumbled quietly, “Does Hux give you that impression? Y’know… does he exhaust you and make you hate being here?”

“Are you asking me if I like him?” Rey questioned flatly.

“I-,” Rose hesitated, then sighed. “Yes.”

Rey grinned from ear to ear, gesturing around the room. “Did you know that he cleans?”

“What?”

“He cleans.” Rey laughed. “He probably cleaned your room and changed your sheets while you were bathing and did all the things a maid normally does.”

“What?” Rose laughed, too, eyes sparkling with mirth and life for the first time since she’d been ill. “Why? What a bizarre behavior.”

“I suppose it relaxes him.” Rey shrugged. “He mentioned something about stress. Apparently he cleans the whole house, likes everything tidy and in order.”

“How silly…” Rose muttered, sounding like she didn’t find it silly at all, but rather endearing.

As if summoned by the conversation, a soft knock harkened from the door and Armitage’s voice drifted through the wood.

Rose pulled her dressing gown around her night shift and tied the sash, making certain it was pulled high to her neck and covered her bare ankles, then called timidly “Come in.”

Armitage entered the room, looking fresh and dapper in a dark blue suit with pale eggshell cravat, his cool green eyes warming upon seeing Rose. In his hands was the gown Rose had worn the night she arrived at Netherfield, a pale pink number with soft white lace cuffs.

“It’s been cleaned, if you’re feeling up to dressing again.” He muttered genially, moving to hand it to her but, as if thinking better of it, laying it at the foot of the bed.

Rey wanted to ask if he had washed it himself, knowing that Rose wouldn’t presume to ask him. Somehow the idea of this man handling her sisters clothing in such a way, despite his intentions, made her bristle with protective indignation.

“Thank you so much, Mr. Hux.” Rose uttered warmly. “I think I am well enough to make the journey home. If I could borrow a sheet of paper, I could send word to Miss Organa and we could be out of your hair by lunch.”

“Oh,” Hux muttered disappointedly. “I wouldn’t say you’ve been… in my hair, or er… that is to say, a nuisance, I’ve rather enjoyed your being here, despite you being ill and- I’m rambling. Right.”

Rose’s smile was one so full of hope and endearment, Rey almost felt blinded by it.

“Even so, it would be silly for me to stay here indefinitely.” Rose mused.

Armitage stared at her then, as if thinking through something, then bit his lip as his cheeks colored. “Right. I will go and fetch that paper.”

He turned to head for the door but paused, hand lingering on the golden handle. “Miss Tico, would you allow me to do one last favor for you?”

“Yes?” Rose looked back up at him from the vanity she had turned to.

“Take my carriage home, no arguing for propriety’s sake, please? It is no bother, my driver is not busy, and I would feel quite at leisure knowing that you made it home safe.” Hux wrung his hands, somehow looking like he was asking her something far more important than if she wanted a ride home.

Rose smiled prettily, a beacon of cool strength juxtaposed to his romantic nerves. “Thank you, Mr. Hux. I would appreciate that with all my heart.”

“Good. I will have the carriage drawn.” He let out a breath, shoulders moving with the action, and stepped into the hallway, closing the doors behind him.

“I think that boy likes you very much, Rose.” Rey remarked softly, watching Rose’s face turn a deep scarlet. “I would be careful.”

“Hm.” Was all Rose had to say about the matter, turning back to the mirror and preening at her hair.

ꕥ

Outside in the gravel drive before Netherfield, the Hux’s and Mr. Solo were bidding farewell to Miss Tico and Miss Johnson. Millicent made a big show of hugging Rose around the arms and kissing both of her cheeks with the airy grace rich people usually did such things, remarking again, as she had a million times since leaving the house and walking outside, how lovely it was to have hosted Miss Tico. She made no such remarks about Rey.

Rey tried to be useful to the driver, insisting on putting the bundle of gowns sent with them in the back of the carriage herself, but he took it from her hands and shooed her away, leaving her dawdling by the end of the carriage awkwardly, not really wanting to join in the group conversation after her behavior the night before. Shame crept up her neck slowly as she felt Ben Solo’s eyes on her, yet when she turned he had looked away, smiling genially at Rose and inclining his head to her.

It occurred to her then that she had not seen him smile as such before. It was a strangely beautiful and thrilling thing, as his overall appearance seemed more suited to scowling. But the smile, however brief and small, lit up his countenance in a way that was both peculiar yet lovely. Perhaps Ben Solo was just as much a miser with his smiles as he was with his money.

“Thank you again, Mr. Hux. I feel after your treatment I have been spoiled.” Rose uttered quietly, intended only for Armitage. However, their lover’s parting would have to be brief, surrounded by friends and family as they were.

“It was my pleasure.” Hux replied, taking Rose’s gloved hand in his own and kissing her fingers, never breaking eye contact with her.

Rose, pink-cheeked and dizzy looking, turned then and Hux helped her up into the carriage, lingering as she took her seat and giving her one last smile before turning away. Rey moved toward the carriage door then, throwing one hand onto the side of the carriage and lifting her foot to the step. She froze, however, when she felt a large, warm hand engulf her free one, and looked to see Ben Solo standing there, holding it. Their eyes met, a certain burning intensity growing within her, and in seconds it was gone, as he drew her forward by the hand and helped her into the carriage. Wordlessly he turned and walked briskly away, leaving Rey staring after him, not noticing the way he flexed his hand as if it had caught on fire.

“Goodbye!” Rose was calling, the carriage in motion before Rey even knew what was happening. She fell into her seat, eyes still on the broad back of Ben Solo as he disappeared into the house. She unconsciously folded her hand into a fist in her lap to protect what remained of the heat from his touch, gazing out the window of the carriage as trees passed by in a gentle whirl, confused.

“Are you okay, Rey?”

“Yes,” She came back to herself and assured, flattening both hands against her skirt and nodding. “I just got dizzy coming up the step, is all. I haven’t eaten much out of worry for you!” She poked Rose in the knee, prompting a giggle.

“Do you really think he likes me?” Rose asked softly.

Rey pointed to the roof of the carriage and gestured all around. “Yes.”

“But any gentleman would do the same!” Rose protested.

“No, they most certainly would not.” Rey countered.

They argued about it for most of the way home, Rose hesitant to put too much hope in this barely blossomed relationship and Rey wanting to force Rose to see that she was right. Eventually Rose fell asleep, still relatively weak from her illness, and Rey watched the trees and gray clouds go by, introspective in her thoughts.

A welcoming party awaited them upon arriving home. The windows at the front of the house gave a complete view of the road leading up to Longbourn for most of a mile, so generally everyone in the household knew when visitors were arriving. Rey woke Rose as the carriage rattled up to the house, and they stepped out when it stopped into the waiting arms of Leia Organa-Solo.

“Welcome home, girls!” She cried, then kissed Rose on the forehead. “Rose, dear, how are you feeling? Are you better?”

“Yes, I feel loads better.” Rose nodded, turning to accept a hug from Amilyn and Jannah, who looked like they wanted to talk about one thing and one thing only.

Leia wisely made them wait until they had gone into the house so that the carriage driver could not overhear a word and report gossip back to the household staff at Netherfield. Rey lugged her bundle of clothing indoors, dropping it carelessly at the doorway, and followed the group of women to their favorite sitting room at the back of the house. Leia ushered Rose into the comfiest armchair, telling Amilyn to go and ask the cook for tea, and sat down with Jannah on the sofa. Rey sank to the floor, her knees curling up to her chest and back against the sofa legs behind her, suddenly feeling quite exhausted.

“How progresses things with Mr. Hux?” Leia inquired quietly of Rose.

Rose shifted in her seat, maneuvering a lumpy cushion out from behind her back and smiled softly. “I think things are going well. I feel affection from him.”

“Rey?” Jannah asked immediately, not trusting Rose’s polite assumptions of everyone. “What do you think?”

Rose made a gasp of mock hurt but was more than willing to allow Rey tell the story. Rose wasn’t feeling up to intrigue. To be honest, she really wanted to go upstairs and take a nap.

“He likes her.” Rey affirmed with cheerful smile. “He likes her a lot.”

Amilyn came hurrying into the room with a tray of tea, setting it on the table between Leia and Rose. “He likes her?”

“He likes her.” Rey repeated, tapping her fingers on her knees and laughing as Amilyn and Jannah squealed with glee.

“But do you like him?” Leia interjected, watching Rose’s face carefully.

Rose turned pink in response, shaking her head, unable to keep a smile from splitting on her lips.

“I mean,” she began. “I barely know him yet. But so far I see nothing worth not getting to know him a little bit better.”

“She likes him.” Rey stated, and Amilyn and Jannah squealed again with glee.

“Okay, okay, girls, quiet.” Leia caught the contagion and laughed with them, handing out saucers with cups of tea to all the girls, a sweet biscuit each accompanying. “Well, I’ve heard from Luke. He comes home tonight from London.”

“Does he?” Rey wondered. “I thought he must already have been back.”

“He was supposed to be. But he ran into someone in town and he’s bringing him back for a visit.”

“A visitor?” Jannah inquired.

“Who could be visiting?” Amilyn repeated.

“Drink your tea, all of you, and be strong. The visitor is Luke’s distant cousin and inheritor of this house, Mr. Hans Chewbacca.” Leia uttered solemnly, raising her own cup to her lips.

An eruption of outrage and scandalous indignation followed her words; Rey and Rose’s eyes met over the rim of their teacups, worry reflecting worry.

“Is he coming to kick us out?”

“His name is rather odd… is he foreign?”

“He is not going to kick us out. He does not inherit the house until Luke passes away.” Leia assured them. “He is merely coming to see what it is he is in line to inherit.”

Rey thought that was rather presumptive of a person to visit the house that people called their home and examine it for it’s usefulness after the current owner kicked the bucket. But many of the rules of “civilized society” confused and irritated her.

“Where is Kaydel?” She asked by way of changing to subject, hopefully to something more pleasant.

“Visiting a friend,” Leia sighed between sips of tea. “She put up a fuss leaving, though, when I told her she couldn’t take Bee Bee with her.”

“Where is he?”

“Napping somewhere, I’m sure.”

“I would like to be doing the same.” Rose muttered.

“Why don’t you do that?” Leia agreed. “It’s so good to have you home again, Rose.”

The girls stood at once, bustling around Rose to clear the tea things and help her to her feet. Rey took Rose’s arm in hers and guided her up the stairs to their room, closing the door behind them.

“I think I’ll rest a while with you, before Mr. Chewbacca gets here.”

“We’ll probably all need it.” Rose snorted as she fell onto her side of the bed, not evening bothering to kick off her boots.

“I hope he isn’t an unpleasant fellow.” Rey muttered, following suit.

“I’m sure he’s quite an ordinary gentleman.”

ꕥ

Rey sat up with a start, catching a soft trickle of drool from her chin in her palm and staring blearily around the room. Twilight was falling outside, casting everything in their room in dark purple shadow. Her hand bumbled along the side table as the bell clanked below and cook shouted up the stairs “Dinnertime!”, likely the sound that had startled her awake. Finding what felt like a tinderbox, Rey struck a light to the candle and peered over the sudden glare toward her sister’s slumbering form.

“Rose,” she hissed, reaching out the shake the girl by the hip. “Rose, wake up.”

“I’m up!” Rose called but did not move. A second later she was snoring lightly again.

Rey shook her hip again. “They’re calling for dinner. Do you want to come down?”

“I’m up!” Rose cried, and pushed herself slowly upward, brushing hair from her eyes and glaring around the room. “What time is it?”

“Dinnertime.” Rey laughed, putting the candle up between them so they could see each other’s faces. “Would you like to come down and eat or go back to sleep?”

Rose glanced longingly down at her pillow but shook her head.

“I want to be awake when Mr. Chewbacca gets here. I only feel stuffy, anyway.”

“Good.”

After lighting the rest of the candles in their room, fixing their pillow-hair, and freshening themselves with a perfumed cloth, Rey and Rose blew out all but one candle (leaving it under a protective glass cover) and descended the stairs. The warm aroma of fresh baked bread, smoked ham, boiled potatoes, roasted brussel sprouts, and cherry tart filled the air. Neither Rey nor Rose had eaten since breakfast at Netherfield, and both were incredibly starving.

They slid into the dining room together, finding the entire household seated already and waiting for them, Luke in his seat at the head.

“Luke, you’re back!” Rey exclaimed with excitement, rushing past a stranger at the table to throw her arms around his neck. He chuckled and pat her arm in return, nodding at Rose’s small wave as she seated at the end of the table.

“I have returned, yes.” He uttered gruffly. “And I am starving. Will you take a seat please?”

Rey laughed and turned to take her place at the table, freezing as she came to notice the stranger’s presence at last, seated at the foot of the table opposite from Luke. His brown hair was wildly long, almost untamed, tied back in a simple black ribbon at the nape of his neck, and a bushy beard, trimmed into decorative style, covered the entirety of the lower half of his face. He gave her an awkwardly toothy grin as their eyes met and stood to bow to her as was customary of gentlemen, then bowed to Rose as well.

“Girls, this is Mr. Hans Chewbacca.” Leia introduced them. “Mr. Chewbacca these are two of our girls, Rose Tico and Rey Johnson. I’m sorry our youngest couldn’t be here to greet you this evening.”

Hans Chewbacca continued to grin awkwardly, nodding at Rey and Rose as he crouched back into his seat. Rey had never, ever, ever seen a man as tall as Hans Chewbacca, and his form was so wide and boxy he looked to be in perpetual discomfort. Rey only had one frame of reference to compare him to, Ben Solo, but Chewbacca made Mr. Solo seem small in comparison.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Rose uttered as Rey had seemed to forget how to speak. She muttered her agreement as she made her way over to the vacant seat between Rose and Mr. Chewbacca, carefully slipping around his awkward mass and sliding into her seat.

“Finally we can eat!” Luke gestured and the table became a flurry of passed plates and please-hand-me’s. Amilyn was investing all of her attention in her potatoes and ham, pointedly avoiding staring at Mr. Chewbacca, but Jannah was not so shy. Her dark brown eyes had not left him once since Rey and Rose had come down, examining his broad shoulders and everywhere hair, the way he scrunched in his seat and tucked his elbows in to his sides so as not to bump anyone.

“How was your trip to London?” Leia asked Luke by way of making conversation.

“Long and tedious. I discovered the mistake. It had to do with our bookkeeper up in London. The staff up there wanted me to fire him but I couldn’t do it to him. He’s just an old man trying to make his way in the world. Sometimes mistakes are made.”

“Kind of you.” Mr. Chewbacca added, handing the platter of rolls to Rey. She took them in both hands, freezing in shock as, in moving his hand away, Hans accidentally whacked the platter from beneath, sending rolls scattering to the floor, condemned to roll along the floorboards until they stilled in various locations.

Jannah snorted loudly, turning it into an inelegant cough and taking a deep chug of wine.

“My deepest apologies.” Mr. Chewbacca grumbled, his chair sliding back with a heavy scrape, and he bent over with what looked like great difficulty and began to pick them up. Bee Bee, who had been laying on his tummy a good distance away, ran up now and was greedily snatching up as many rolls as he could fit in his little snout.

“Bee Bee, no! Give those to me!” Rey shouted, setting the platter down and grabbing the majority of the bread from the corgis’ mouth, who skittered off with what he had managed to keep.

“I am truly sorry.” Mr. Chewbacca repeated again, a deeply mournful tone in his growl of a voice.

“It’s alright. No harm done. It’s just bread.” Rey smiled at him, handing the abused rolls to the servant waiting with a bowl. “We’ll feed them to the chickens. Thank you.” She uttered as the servant took the bowl away from the room.

“After you.” Rey gestured to Hans’ seat which he lumbered into a moment later. She followed suit and passed what remained of the platter of rolls to Rose.

“It feels like Kay-D is still among us.” Leia remarked with a laugh. Relieved laughter followed her statement as everyone settled into enjoying their food.

“Mr. Chewbacca, you should tell us more about yourself.” Rose stated as she primly sliced her piece of ham.

“Well, there is not much to tell.” He cleared his throat and shifted his feet under the table, china rattling softly as it shook. “I am single, I live in a very tiny house, and I tend to gardens, landscaping and the like.”

“Oh,” Amilyn spoke up, her fork and knife hovering over her plate as she studied him. “You are a horticulturist?”

“I am indeed.” He chuckled, a sound warm and deep.

“Then perhaps you can tell me,” Amilyn continued excitedly. “How long would it take for tree roots to grow through a human body?”

Mr. Chewbacca’s eyes widened dramatically and he spluttered on his wine. Leia frowned at Amilyn and handed Hans a napkin to wipe his beard.

“Amilyn is a writer. She must be working on something macabre.” She explained.

“No, nothing such as that. I am writing a story of a gallant Lady general. She’s just been captured by the villain and he’s got to torture her in some way. I wanted it to be quite natural, for the symbolism matches-,”

“This is not table talk.” Luke grumbled at her, interrupting.

“Gardens are nice.” Jannah piped up, gesturing at Mr. Chewbacca with her fork. “How comes it that you haven’t been married yet?”

“Jannah!” Leia exclaimed. Sometimes these girls gave her a headache with their lack of propriety.

“No, it’s quite alright.” Mr. Chewbacca smiled toothily. “I just haven’t found the right woman yet, I suppose.”

Rey felt hairs on the back of her neck prickle as Mr. Chewbacca’s hairy face turned toward her, his eyes examining her warmly.

“Perhaps fate will smile on me yet.”

Rose’s eyes met Rey’s across the top of her wineglass. She lowered her glass, mouthing “I think he likes you” and giving her a wink, to which Rey slid her hand across to Rose’s thigh and gave her a tiny pinch. Rose broke out in a laugh, then raised her glass to cover the awkward behavior.

“A toast to finding love.” She stated warmly, meeting Rey’s eyes again.

Everyone toasted, Rey a little reluctantly, and drank from their glasses. Rey wondered if it was particularly cruel to hope that Mr. Chewbacca’s bizarre gesture meant nothing more than dinner banter. She had a bad feeling, however, that she might be wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want, you can follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/britinthewoods) ! :) Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy as much as I do!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things start to sizzle, as Ben begins to burn, Armitage and Rose turn up the heat, and Rey descends into angst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally I feel like things are happening, but it's still not enough!! It's so hard for me to slow the story down and make certain I'm handling the elements correctly, because I just want to get to all the good parts. :P
> 
> This chapter has some adorable GingerFlower/GingerRose, so please enjoy! It ends with lots of angst, however, so I do give you fair warning. 
> 
> I'll more than likely update chapter 7 this weekend, as I just can't wait for it. However, I am back at work again after the holiday break, so please be patient as I will be taking a bit longer between updates. My plan is to update once a week. Also, a tradition on AO3 is to indicate how many chapters the entire fic will take, and I apologize I do not have that number for you. I do have an outline, but so far I've had to move things back as inspiration strikes, so I have no idea how many chapters this will be, really. As I get close to the end, I will have a better answer. 
> 
> Warning: This chapter deals with some potential triggers for people, particularly in the abuse department. Please read ahead carefully!
> 
> THANK YOU SO MUCH for reading! I love being able to share this story with you!
> 
> [Song](https://open.spotify.com/track/6UUo0zoBpiLHQWY792B6w1?si=mu132_YBT5uVLHq0HCeghA) referenced in this chapter. I've always thought it'd make a nice lullaby for children.

After dinner, the entire family moved into the sitting room to rest before the fire and have dessert and drinks. The room was bathed in a cozy glow, soft flames throwing flickering plays of shadow and light on all the faces gathered around them. Mr. Chewbacca was reading to them all from a book he had brought with him on horticulture. Amilyn listened rapt with attention, Jannah dozed on her shoulder, and Rose stared sleepily into the fire. Leia sat sipping her bourbon, eyes far away as she listened, and Rey sat with Luke on a loveseat near the back of the room, impatiently tapping her foot, Luke nodding his head as he fell in and out of sleep. A clock somewhere in the house chimed eleven, startling Jannah and Luke awake, and Mr. Skywalker stood, interrupting Mr. Chewbacca’s reading with a soft clearing of his throat and a bow.

“I believe now is a good time to turn in for the evening.” Luke mumbled. “Goodnight, all.”

As he turned to leave the room, others followed suit with exclamations of wanting to turn in as well, except for Amilyn and Mr. Chewbacca, and soon the room was emptying rapidly. Rey scurried to catch up with Luke, grabbing him by the sleeve at his wrist before he could turn to the stairwell, and tugged him back toward his study.

“Luke, please… may I have a word?”

Even his favorite girl could not prevent Luke from grumbling at being interrupted from seeking what he desired. His mouth turned into a deep frown and he rubbed his eyes in exhaustion, following her unwillingly into the study.

“What is it, girl? He growled. “Need I remind you that I merely arrived home today from a very long journey?”

“I know, I am sorry.” Rey uttered with remorse. “It will only take a second. I already told Leia but I wanted to inform you as well.”

“Is this about that friend of yours?” Luke sighed as he sank into the armchair behind his desk, rubbing the whiskers at his chin with a thumb and forefinger.

“Yes, Finn.” Rey looked surprised. “Oh, I suppose Leia told you.”

“She wrote to me the same night you told her. I checked on incoming shipments from his area. There’s a ship arriving in a few days to port. I’ve sent an old ex-employee of mine to intercept him.”

“Oh.” Rey smiled in surprise, relieved. “Thank you… for doing that for me.”

Luke nodded. “It isn’t easy to outrun the military. Did he say why he had to leave?” Luke looked almost suspicious.

“No, but I’m sure he had good reason.” Rey confirmed vehemently, hands folding together in what looked like a pleading gesture. “He is such a good person and took great care of me as a child.”

Luke grinned softly then, his old man eyes twinkling, stating teasingly “Is this young man a potential romantic prospect?”

Rey could not help the soft pink burn on her cheekbones, but she swallowed down the hope and shook her head emphatically. “I doubt it. I was still quite young when he left me. We never had that sort of relationship. He’s much more like a brother.”

“A lot can change with time.” Luke murmured. “I have his new papers ready. His name is now Henry Fallsbrook. He’s a chaplain at the local church. The post has been vacant for quite a while and needed filling, so it suits him well. He grew up in a south African colony and immigrated to England when he was 10.”

Rey’s fingers twisted together, and she made a face. “Finn… isn’t very religious. He won’t like to be a chaplain.”

“Henry will like to do whatever he is hired for.” Luke remarked snidely. “That is if we can intercept Finn before he roams around England telling everyone who he is. Before we can tell him who he is now.”

Rey sighed heavily, a small rock taking up shape in her abdomen, pulse quickening with nerves.

“Luke, truly… I am very thankful. You did not have to help him.”

“He’s your family.” Luke said with half a grim smile. “And you are my family. How could I not?”

Rey crossed the room to lean over the desk, kissing him softly on his temple.

“Does that mean I can go to bed now?” He remarked grumpily.

“Goodnight, Luke.”

ꕥ

“I wonder if Mr. Hux will be there.” Jannah mumbled chattily into Rey’s ear as the carriage turned up a long drive and all swayed into one another. Mr. Skywalker and his family had been invited to a private ball at the home of one of the Meryton citizens. Mr. Skywalker had been reluctant to accept as it was the day after he had arrived home from a long journey and he would rather be a hermit, Ms. Leia Organa-Solo had talked him into attending. For if he did not attend, none of them could.

So they all sat, piled upon one another, in the back of Mr. Skywalker’s small and singular carriage. Mr. Chewbacca had merrily accepted the invitation to attend as well, rather than sit alone at Longbourn reading his horticulture books. Each girl was doing her best not to touch him with their legs as they rode, though the carriage was quite small and he so large, that they ended up sitting in one another’s laps the long ride to the neighbor’s home. Only Luke, Leia, and Amilyn were comfortable, seated together on the opposite side of the carriage.

“If Mr. Hux is there, will you let me dance with him, Rose?” Jannah prompted when no one had replied to her first question.

“Sure.” Rose answered quietly, pressed against the window and watching the scenery pass by with an uncomfortable grimace on her face.

Jannah frowned, not expecting that answer, having been trying to goad Rose into reacting with jealousy.

“If he asks you.” Rey remarked in Rose’s stead, snickering and poking Jannah in the side. She shrieked and slammed back against the seat in response, forcing Rey to be crushed or slide along the cushion, which put her right next to Mr. Chewbacca.

He grinned toothily at her.

“Will you dance with me sometime this evening, Miss Johnson?”

Rey fixed her features into a polite smile. “Yes, Mr. Chewbacca. That would be nice.”

His grin widened, disappearing into his thick beard.

Rey was saved from further awkward conversation as the carriage rolled to a stop. A footman opened the door and Amilyn exited first, followed by Leia, then Rose, Jannah, and Rey. Luke and Hans remained inside until the women exited, as was the gentlemanly thing to do.

Inside, the ball was already in full swing, and many people milled about from room to room on the first floor of the home, carrying little plates of snacks and fluted glasses of champagne. Lovely music, much softer and more civilized than was played at the Meryton public ball, was floating from a small ballroom at the back of the house in which many couples were already dancing. In an open room off of one end of the ballroom there were several tables set-up for whist. It was in this room that Rey and Rose, walking arm in arm from room to room, noticed the presence of Millicent Hux. They watched her for a moment as she giggled flirtatiously, holding her cards and peering at them in a cat-like way.

“If sweet Milly is here,” Rey uttered sarcastically. “Then so too should her brother.”

Rose was already searching the room for him, scanning from face to face, her expression soft and hopeful.

“Miss Johnson, Miss Tico.” Came a deep, rumbling voice from behind them, though softened, compared to the other times Rey had heard it. “Good evening.”

It disappointed Rey that she recognized who spoke from the first word. Gritting her teeth, prepping for a fight, she turned slowly around, pinning him with a curt glance.

“Good evening.” She stated airily.

“Good evening, Mr. Solo.” Rose spoke happily, hope blossoming on her features. The chance that Armitage was here increased exponentially at the presence of his best friend. She curtsied, then elbowed Rey when she did not, who did half-heartedly as an afterthought.

Ben watched Rey as she did so, his face emotionless and impassive, fiddling mindlessly with a cufflink on his left wrist. As Rey rose, their eyes met, and it took several seconds of her glaring at him before he turned his attention to Rose.

“Mr. Hux is looking for you. He went outside to wait for your carriage.” Ben stated softly. “If you wouldn’t mind, he would be very happy if you would join him.”

Rose’s smile could have been mistaken for inebriation, so loose and joyful was it on her face. Gathering up her skirts in one hand, she lay her free palm on Rey’s arm and asked softly, “Do you mind?”

“No, go have fun.” Rey acquiesced, kissing her on the cheek.

Rey and Ben were silent as they watched Rose bob and weave her way through the crowd. Rey’s skin was crawling at his mere presence, goosebumps raising along her arms as he stepped closer to her, bumped from behind by a waiter carrying a wide platter of hors d’oeuvres. She stepped back almost immediately, to avoid touching him, and froze as she felt her hip bump into something solid and now quite suddenly wobbly. Ben’s eyes widened and she turned, as he slid forward and with one outstretched arm, caught a tumbling vase in one hand.

People around the room who had seen clapped and cheered at his save, but Rey only swallowed, finding herself now much closer to the man than she would like, and oddly fixated on his hand, noting how freakishly large it was to have caught, and held, that vase in his palm. She watched as he leaned around her and placed it on the podium she had bumped into, turning it until it was in just the right spot. Rey stared fixedly at his chest as he did this, unable to move any further away from him in the thickness of the crowd, and her head spun as she inhaled a pleasant scent, something like rainy forests or freshly chopped wood or cozy firesides. When he finally moved away she let out a deep breath, unaware she had been holding it, and straightened up to her full height, gripping her skirts to hide her suddenly clammy palms.

“I-,” She cleared her throat, pointedly looking anywhere but at his face. “Thank you. For catching the vase.”

“Any time.” Ben stated his voice a little rough, lower than normal. “That would have been an expensive replacement.”

“Are you implying I could not have afforded it?” Rey snapped, suddenly unafraid to meet his eyes again. She glared at him in defiance.

“I-… no.” Ben sighed, running a large hand through his hair. Rey watched this motion distractedly, having seen him do it enough to know he felt nervous. “It was just a statement.”

Rey’s hackles lowered but she turned, ready to bid him a good night and get as far away from him as she could, when he offered her a hand.

“Would… would you like to dance, Miss Johnson?”

Rey stared at his hand, distracted again by its size, by the presence of small scars at his wrist and thumb, the shape of his well-tended fingernails, and the warmth it most surely would offer should she take it. Conscious of the fact that she was staring and taking far too long to answer, she swallowed and glanced back up at him with a soft, mirthless laugh.

“I’m sorry… did you ask me to dance?”

Ben did not retract his hand but clenched and unclenched his free one to keep it from running through his hair again. “I did. Would you do me the honor?”

Rey was saved from having to answer yes as the visage of Mr. Hans Chewbacca swam into view somewhere over Ben’s right shoulder. She smiled and waved emphatically across the room at Mr. Chewbacca to get his attention, assuring he would come toward her, then frowned up at Ben.

“Oh, it is quite sweet of you to ask. However, I am already spoken for.” She claimed, lifting her skirts and taking a step around him. “I already agreed to dance with Mr. Chewbacca, Mr. Skywalker’s distant cousin.”

Ben followed her with his body, turning and glancing up into the crowd to see a very tall, very large and hairy man approaching Rey with a toothy grin on his features. Ben’s hand lowered to his side and his mouth turned into a dark frown.

“Well, after, then…” He muttered, taking a step after her.

But Rey was waving good-bye to him as she was engulfed by the crowd, calling “Have a lovely evening, Mr. Solo.”

Ben stared after her, the crowd parted around Mr. Chewbacca, and Rey placed her hand in his, the two of them turning to make their way into the ballroom. Ben’s jaw was clenched so tight he was seeing stars. Against his better judgement, he followed them all the way to the entrance of the ballroom, pocketing his hands as the music struck up and Rey and Mr. Chewbacca lifted their connected hands, pointing their toes, and the dance began. Stepping into the room, he slid into a shadowy, unlit corner of the ballroom to watch.

Mr. Chewbacca moved quite slowly, Ben thought to himself with pleasure, and took note how smooth and fluid Rey’s movements were compared to his. He lumbered around like a tree stump on stilts, but Rey seemed to be enjoying herself. Something burned deep in his chest, and Ben grit his teeth so tightly his jaw ached. Her smile was wide and wonderful, her hazelnut eyes shining with mirth and glee as she tried to guide Mr. Chewbacca in the correct moves of the dance. Ben could not help but wonder just what it was about this woman that got under his skin, that caused him to throw caution to the wind and ask her to dance, though she’d turned him down. What woman had EVER turned him, the wealthy and powerful Ben Solo, down?

Yet as Rey walked the length of the room, her back to him, and turned to the slow, sweetly melancholic thrum of the music, her eyes darted through the gloom and met with his, a brief flaring rage of recognition blossoming in her gaze, and she tore her eyes away with attitude, throwing herself into her dance with renewed abandon. The fire in Ben’s chest burned hotter.

“What are you doing lurking in the shadows by yourself, Mr. Solo?” Millicent simpered as she approached, pushing a glass of champagne into one of his hands.

“Meditating on the very great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty women can bestow…” He muttered distractedly, almost to himself.

Millicent giggled, astonished. “Oh my. Is Mr. Ben Solo in love?”

His gaze snapped away then, piercing Millicent with a scornful look. “Love? Never.”

“Then whose eyes, may I ask, have caused you to spout such poetry?”

Ben did not miss the way she fluttered her lashes as she leaned in upon his arm.

“Miss Rey Johnson’s.” He stated flatly, then turned and left her alone there, gaping once more like a cod fish.

ꕥ

Outside, Rose and Armitage were seated on a bench in the garden, alone, missing the party entirely. Armitage had intended to take her inside, where it was warmer, for fun and dancing, but they’d become distracted by conversation when she found him outside, and their steps had taken them around the side of the house and into the garden. The windows glowed with bright merry making onto the grounds outside, and music and joyous voices spoke their softened sounds beyond the walls.

Rose was seated a foot away from him, feet curled elegantly up beneath the bench, but her knees were angled close to his, so they were centimeters from touching. It was all Armitage could think about as she spoke animatedly, gesturing to some story she was telling with big motions and waving of her arms.

“- and then the cannonballs hit, so mother and father took Paige and I below decks. But Paige wanted to help, she’d always been a tomboy, y’see, so she snuck back up to the top and… well. Mother and Father found out and went after her. They fell to the sword. A sailor found me in the rubbish down below and took me with him in a lifeboat.” Rose continued, finishing up her story of how she came to be an orphan. She hadn’t realized, but she was trembling now from nerves and cold, and two tears had fallen down her cheeks.

She continued talking, not noticing that Armitage was shrugging off his suit jacket. “Ms. Organa-Solo helped support a charitable orphanage in London back then and that’s where the sailor took me when we made it to shore. I-,” She cut off as Armitage stood, expecting him to give up and walk away because of her weird story, one she couldn’t stop telling as soon as he had asked, emotions flooding out of her like waters of a broken dam. She hiccuped softly, however, as Armitage merely tossed his jacket over her shoulders and sat right beside her on the bench, his body flush with hers, arm around her shoulders. His hand gripped her arm and pulled her toward his chest, all of which she accepted with wide eyes and very pink cheeks.

“Ar-.. Armitage.” She gasped, his name feeling foreign on her tongue (politeness dictates using Mr. Hux) “What if someone sees us?”

“I’ll sue them.” Armitage uttered matter-of-factly. “They have no business in what is our business.”

Rose burned as the weight of his cheek pressed upon her hair. She felt a long, thin, cool finger come up to catch the tears from her cheeks, carefully and lovingly wiping them away.

“Even so, this isn’t very proper…” She whispered, though she did not move to push him away.

Armitage sighed thoughtfully, his forefinger now tracing Rose’s jaw in a distracting motion, having no more tears to clean. “True. If you tell me to move, I will.”

Rose said nothing. A moment passed, then she turned her head slowly and carefully to peek up at his face, biting her lip nervously.

“Rose…” He breathed her name. She felt his cool breath, smelling faintly of champagne and peppermint, brush her cheek, and her stomach began to somersault within her.

“I…” She whispered, noting that he was staring at her lips. Her stomach began to tie into knots, such tight knots it was working up into her lungs and she couldn’t even breathe. “I… Armie…”

He chuckled, close to her mouth, and she breathed him in, waiting and hoping, one hand curling on his jacket and the other pinching the sleeve of his shirt.

“No one’s ever called me Armie before…” He remarked, his mouth loitering over her jaw, brushing so lightly it was driving her mad.

“Will you just kiss me already?!” She blurted, wincing her eyes shut. “Are you some sort of sadist or-,”

Finally, blissfully it was happening, his lips on hers, softer than clouds and sweeter than honey. She leaned into him, having absolutely no clue what to do but instinctively knowing that she had to be as close to him as possible. Her hands found their way around his neck, one of them weaving up into his mass of ginger hair. He gasped against her mouth as her fingernails teased lightly up his scalp and Rose smiled, beginning to pull away, content for this to be her first experience. She did not expect him to follow, though he did, nipping on her bottom lip and coaxing her forward to lean into him again as his hands smoothed around the waist of her bodice. He pulled her closer, parting his legs so she could slide between them on the bench, breaking their kiss to breathe a moment and stare longingly into her eyes.

“So…” he began, his cheekbones feverishly red and hazel-green eyes bright. “There’s a way… if you want to try…”

Rose laughed at his hesitance, pressing herself against his chest and running her fingers through his hair again, liking how it mussed up in the back and looked unkempt and disheveled. “Mr. Hux, we are not married.”

“I didn’t mean **that**.” His entire face turned red, even his ears, and he knotted his hands behind her back, nudging his nose affectionately against hers. “And please, in private… call me Armitage. Or… Or Armie.”

“Armie…” Rose said happily, leaning in to plant a swiftly playful and chaste kiss to his lips. He caught her mouth with his, however, and pressed his palm flat on her lower back to keep her still, his tongue laving softly at her pretty little mouth. She parted her lips on instinct alone, trembling as his tongue peeked inside, the touch and taste of his on hers sending lightning bolts to crackle beneath her skin. She sighed heavily and touched her tongue to his, a rose blooming with pleasure in his arms.

“Who’s out there?!” Someone shouted, and Rose jumped, startled, tumbling to the ground from her precarious seat on the bench and Armitage’s lap. Armitage cried an unsavory expletive and ducked down beside her, his hand on her stomach, urging her to lay flat, as he cradled her head in his other hand.

“Are you okay?” He whispered breathlessly. “Did you hit your head?”

“No.” Rose shook her head, giving him a look of concern. “But who spoke?”

“I think it’s the caretaker.” Armitage scoot forward to peer up through the branches of a shrub. “He’s coming this way!”

“What?” Rose gasped fearfully. She mentally chastised herself. She’d known better than to be alone for so long with a man, known better than to let him… She couldn’t even finish her thoughts; she was so embarrassed.

“I’ll draw him off.” Armitage turned back to her and whispered, his face inches from hers again. “I’ll tell him…” He paused thoughtfully, then grinned as if proud of himself. “I’ll tell him I was picking a rose.”

With a swift peck to her lips, Armitage popped to his feet and strode forward. Rose could hear him mumbling something to the caretaker, though she could not discern it through the roar in her ears and the beating of her frantic heart. She lay there much longer than she needed to, unable to move, her entire being alive and on fire.

Rose wondered if she was falling in love.

ꕥ

When Rose had finally emerged from the garden, she slipped quickly into the house, intent to find Armitage and at the very least give him his jacket back. He was nowhere to be found, however, and neither were Millicent or Ben. Frustrated and paranoid that she looked suspicious walking around carrying a gentleman’s jacket, Rose slipped into a quiet alcove and pressed against the wall, biting her lip nervously. It was ten minutes of waiting before Rey walked by, spotted her hiding in the dark, and called to her in aggravation.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Luke wants to go home early. Says he can’t keep his eyes open.”

“Okay.” Rose stated with relief, throwing her arms around Rey and leaning into her hug.

“What’s this?” Rey laughed, wrapping her arms around Rose and patting her gently on the back. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything is perfect.” Rose whispered, squeezing Rey harder.

“What’s wrong with your hair?”

Rey pulled back and raised her hands to Rose’s buns, pulling a long blade of grass from between them and holding it up in front of Rose’s face. Time slowed as Rey’s eyes widened, quite an intuitive girl, and took in the flyaway strands of hair, the bits of grass, the black jacket Rose tried to hide inconspicuously in her grip at her side.

“Wow.” Rey laughed, wrapping her arm around Rose’s shoulder and steering her out of the room. “Wow. WOW.” She couldn’t stop saying.

“Stop it.” Rose whined, pulling away from her as they exited into the cool of the evening. Without thinking, she slipped her arms into Armitage’s jacket, nestling into the warmth and familiar smell of it.

“I am… just beside myself with pride.” Rey went on, linking her arm with Rose’s as they made their way toward the parked carriage. “I cannot believe you did that!”

“You don’t even know what I did.” Rose huffed.

Rey leveled a serious gaze at her, then peeked around them to see if anyone was close enough to hear. “Is your virtue intact? Was he trying to use you?”

“He just kissed me!” Rose whined, wishing the earth would swallow her whole. “Nothing else happened. I swear.”

“Not that I would care.” Rey muttered, echoing a sentiment Leia had said many times to them growing up. “But he’s the kind of guy who would have you and-,”

“And dump me.” Rose frowned, finishing the phrase for her. “I know. Don’t ruin my night, I’m living in a fairytale right now.”

Rey grinned as they neared the carriage. “I am too, y’know. I got to dance with Mr. Chewbacca.”

Rose laughed softly. “Did you now? What a pleasure.”

Rey opened the carriage door for her and helped her inside, swinging herself up and in after her. The carriage began moving almost immediately.

“Where were you Rose?” Luke grumbled sleepily from the corner. Rose was thankful for the pitch darkness of the carriage. No one could see any of the evidence Rey had seen, though she did wonder how many of the revelers at the party had seen before she could leave.

“Rose was feeling ill. I found her hunkered in a corner. We all just need some sleep.” Rey spoke up on her behalf.

Rose nudged Rey’s elbow beside her in thanks and Rey smiled at her in the dark. The way home was filled with silent snores and gentle breathing as most of the inhabitants fell into a light slumber. Only Rose was bright-eyed and fully awake, reliving the moments of the evening, her skin crawling with electricity.

Rey struggled for the first time in her entire life with envy for her sister Rose. She had kissed boys before, but only out of a desire to see what it was like, to defy society’s rules, to be enticingly brave and brazen. But Rey could tell Rose really and truly felt deeply for Mr. Hux. It both simultaneously worried her and gave her a dose of the green dragon. Rey wanted nothing from marriage if it did not come from love, which was, in her cynical mind, an easy way to keep her from marriage and single forever. Love did not come easily, and only love would persuade Rey to give up her freedom.

Upon arrival home, Rose and Rey exited the carriage first and went immediately up to their room, partly on Rey’s ushering so she could grill her sister on what exactly had happened and pry for further details. But Rose was shy and unwilling to share much, only that the experience was fantastic and left her feeling a little bit unlike herself. As they both lay in bed in the darkness, waiting for sleep to claim them, Rose remarked that she had told him about her past life. What she did not say, which lay heavily in her silence following her remark, was that she was terrified such information would be enough to chase Mr. Hux away. Rey thought about it for what felt like hours, then snuggled close to her sister and whispered comfortingly that she was sure it would all work out fine. But Rose was already asleep, and that was the end of it.

ꕥ

Days passed happily at Longbourn, though rather uneventful, after the ball. Mr. Chewbacca spent much of his time in the garden with Amilyn and Leia, helping them tend to their roses and tulips, offering tips and getting his hands dirty. Every now and then Rey and Rose would join them, Rey with a book or a tinkering object, Rose with embroidery or sewing. Kaydel arrived home from staying with her friend and ran around and around the garden with Bee Bee, avoiding stomping on the plants but whacking sticks at the tall grasses, playing make believe she were a pirate.

Some days the girls walked to Meryton, Mr. Chewbacca their chaperone of safety, to spend pennies on ribbons and lace for small modifications to their gowns or pieces to put in their hair styles. Some days they lay in the sitting room, listening to the sound of the clock with not much else to occupy their time. Life seemed good and superficial on the surface, and all were well acquainted and happily suited with one another. Even so, melancholy lingered within one room of the house, a room in which lived two women: one so in love she had no idea, who pouted and grew more sorrowful each day her love did not send word to her by letter, and another who worried for the life of a friend who should have arrived in England already, from whom she had not heard in a fortnight and she could not contact because she had no idea where he was.

It was to this gloom an unfortunate scene of events was introduced, as Mr. Chewbacca approached Ms. Leia Organa-Solo one afternoon in the garden after tea with a proposal of sorts. He suggested that, since he were to inherit the house, he marry one of the girls living there to seal the belonging of the home to their family. Leia thought that a fine idea, having seen no reaction from her girls stating their immense displeasure with him, and began to arrange it. Mr. Chewbacca cited many reasons for wanting to marry them all, Rose for her beauty, Jannah for her laughter, Amilyn for her fortitude, and Rey for her kindness. Leia warned him that Rose was not likely to answer favorably to him, so his thoughts moved on to Rey, who was next in beauty to her sisters. Leia, thinking Rey’s mysterious friend a more likely match for her, suggested Amilyn, who seemed to match him in temperament. To this Mr. Chewbacca seemed to agree.

The morning Mr. Chewbacca was to finally return to his home, everyone gathered for a large breakfast downstairs. In seasonable favor for this celebratory occasion and to thank him for being their guest, as was proper, cook had prepared a feast. Mounds of bacon and eggs, apple tarts, a wheel of cheese, fresh oranges, and hot, freshly baked bread lay spread on the dining table, with hot coffee and tea. Everyone gathered around the table, chatting in amiable conversation, enjoying the delicious food and the sunny summer daylight streaming in through the windows.

Mr. Chewbacca raised his teacup and gestured toward Luke and Leia. “To my wonderful relatives. I thank you for your hospitality. I hope we can continue to be good to one another.”

“I’m sure we will.” Leia said meaningfully, a warm smile on her lips. “You’ll have to return to see us again soon.”

Mr. Chewbacca smiled warmly and gave a funny laugh, downing his tea and resting both of his palms on his thighs. “Well, before I go… I wonder if I might request to speak with Miss Johnson… alone.”

Rey spluttered, leaning over her plate, choking on her bacon. Rose, reacting almost too late, began to pat her on the back, helping her to clear her throat.

“Miss Johnson?” Leia raised an eyebrow in alarm. “Don’t you mean-,”

“Miss Johnson, yes.” Mr. Chewbacca assured her, wriggling his bushy brows. The scrape of his chair echoed in the silence as he pushed to his feet, the table shaking slightly, and he gestured toward the doorway, smiling at Rey.

“I-,” Rey hesitated, feeling Rose’s hand take hers and squeeze it comfortingly.

“Rey, don’t leave him waiting.” Jannah giggled. Leia shushed her and gave Rey an apologetic look, nudging her head in his direction, telling her to go.

Rey swallowed and stood slowly, pushing her seat back into the table and turning to follow Mr. Chewbacca’s lumbering frame from the room. He led her to the sitting room; she followed him in, stiff and ghostlike, an uncomfortable feeling settling in her stomach. When he gestured to the sofa she refused to sit, shaking her head and smiling shakily.

“I’m fine, I do not wish to sit.”

Her stomach flew up into her throat as Mr. Chewbacca knelt down before her.

“Miss Johnson,” He began, folding his hands on his knee and staring up at her with half a frown on his furry face. “I know you do not love me. I would not expect you to so quickly after meeting. However, I have decided that you would make a good life partner for me.”

Rey swallowed coldly and opened her mouth to object, but he continued, and she did not have the heart to interrupt him.

“I see in you an adventurous spirit, and I have grown tired of life here in England. I wish to go back to sea, as I used to do with Leia’s deceased husband Han Solo, many years ago. I feel like you would enjoy your time with me, as you seem not to enjoy life in England so much either.”

Rey felt warmth blossom within her as she realized that this man, as silly as he might be, was genuine and thoughtful and entirely correct. While she had spent her time thinking him dull and dim-witted, he’d astutely examined her being and come to a determination that not many in life had ever been able to do. For the first time in her life, the idea of a loveless marriage actually tempted her.

“Sir,” She began, wrapping her arms tightly around herself and biting her lip. “You are right in saying I do not love you. Which is why-,”

“Love can grow in a marriage, can it not?” Mr. Chewbacca interjected hopefully. “Besides, I can help you build a life full of adventure. And not only that, our marriage will save your family from destitution. You will inherit Longbourn and Mr. Skywalker’s fortune with me. What is there to hate about such a life?”

Rey chewed her lip so hard she wondered if it might bruise, a sudden wave of nausea falling over her.

“Mr. Chewbacca, I do not want to be married.” She whispered painfully, her eyes beginning to sting. “I am so very sorry to have to do this to you, but I cannot marry you. Marriage itself feels much like a trap, so I swore to myself long ago that I would never marry unless I loved him more than life itself. I really am sorry, truly… very sorry.”

“Love more than life?” Mr. Chewbacca breathed in disappointment, his eyes beginning to shine as if tearing up. “Does such a thing exist?”

“Exactly, Mr. Chewbacca.” Rey’s voice trembled as she nodded resolutely, tasting copper on her tongue from the place she had been biting on her lip. “You see, I am quite resolved in my quest to end an old maid.”

He soaked in her words, her trembling, her obvious self-doubt she had been concealing beneath her happy-go-lucky and sunny disposition, frowning sorrowfully to see the real child behind the womanly mask.

“Where did you learn such a notion?” He asked, more out of curiosity than hope.

“I-… Goodbye, Mr. Chewbacca. I hope you have a pleasant trip.” Rey shook her head more violently and turned to walk away from him, ripping the sitting room door open with more strength than she’d meant to. Her family members tumbled inside, having been listening at the door, and gave her apologetic grins. The sight of them all there, so innocent and naïve to her feelings, brought up a rage and anger so fierce within her that it threatened to boil over on her. Eyes brimming with tears, she forced her way through them and ran out of the house, blindly running to the only place in which she could feel safe.

Tumbling into the barn, she shoved the door closed, gasping for air as if drowning, and dragged a large plank of wood over the entrance to shut out any prying members of her family. Once secured, she whirled around and climbed up the ladder into the loft, falling onto a pile of hay in a trembling mess of tears and hiccups and sobs.

_“Come here, Rey,” The pretty woman whispered. “Sit here and watch mama love a man.”_

_Cold hands on her shoulders, the smell of mold and sick, an image of two figures entwined, one of them rutting into the other and grunting, seen through a moth-eaten curtain._

“No…” Rey cried into her arms, urging the memories away. “No!”

_“What is the matter with you, little bitch?!”_

_A slap on her cheek. Tears._

_“Don’t speak of your father that way. If you anger him, he won’t marry me like he promised.”_

Rey sobbed and sobbed until her lungs ached for air, clutching thick chunks of straw in her fists.

_“You should have thrown that little rat out into the cold the moment she was born. I told you she wouldn’t do any good for the brothel.”_

_“You don’t tell me how to live my life!”_

_A sickening sound of bones crunching, someone falling to the floor._

_“Whore!! I own you!!”_

The voices were drowning out, disappearing, replaced with the sounds of someone’s soft voice, and the warmth of a friendly hand on her back.

_If you’ll be my star,_

_I’ll be your sky,_

_you can hide underneath me and come out at night._

_When I turn jet black_

_And you show off your light_

_I live to let you shine_

“Finn…” Rey choked in a hoarse whisper, the song spinning round and round in her mind. She focused on it, remembering his childish voice, his comforting tones, the warmth as he rubbed her back in small circles, the both of them huddled under two planks of wood propped up against a brick wall in an alleyway. Visions of the good parts of her life slowly began to overcome the bad, fighting the battle for her as she sank into exhausted oblivion, dreaming of those who had made fighting for life and living it worth it.

Hours passed and Rey did not stir, sunk in exhaustion from the onslaught of memories and fears from her childhood, the trauma she had never fully recovered from always two steps away. Sometimes she’d run far enough from it that it stayed away, and sometimes it caught her and ate away at her insecurities.

Rose, Luke, Leia, even Jannah and Amilyn had all tried, at one point or another, to enter the barn as the sun fell slowly from the sky into evening, but she had blocked them all out. All they could hope for was to wait and to watch and to pray that she would emerge, strong as she always was.

Eventually, Rey awoke, rolling onto her back and gazing up into the darkness, renewed from slumber but feeling shame and horror, as she always did, when she gave in to the pain of the past. Just once she wanted to face it with bravery, to fight it and kill it so it would never return to haunt her again. It had taken her a very long time to realize how used and abused she had been as a child, still waiting and hoping in her youth that her parents would want to take her back, that they’d come for her, despite their many flaws. Only one thing had followed her into adulthood, and that was her vow to never be the way her fallible mother had, to never need a man, depend on a man, be owned by a man. And though she’d known her temptations with Mr. Chewbacca were only due to sympathy and pity, they had overwhelmed her, as had the entire proposal. Remembering it as she lay in the hay washed her whole being with mortification.

As Rey was wondering if she could ever show her face to her family again, a loud, banging knock came rumbling from the barn doors below, which rattled and shook. Rey sat up quickly, her heart pounding, and waited with bated breath as silence followed. The knock came again moments later, insistent, and Rey scrambled quickly down the ladder, tiptoeing to the barn door to peek between the cracks. Outside, a lone and solitary figure stood by lamplight, his features cast into a warm glow as he raised the lantern to his face and leaned in to peer through the crack back at her.

“Rey?”

Rey lifted the wooden beam with strength a woman shouldn’t necessarily have and tossed it haphazardly to the side, slamming the bolt upward on the barn doors and swinging them open in haste, grinning with warm and exuberant relief at the man standing before her.

“Finn!” She cried, and they rushed into one another’s embrace. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want, you can follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/britinthewoods)! :) Thank you for reading!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Finn reveals a big secret and Ben Solo is made out to be the villain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, reader! If you're still keeping up with this, I thank you!! So, confession time: I kind of hate this chapter. I hate it because it isn't what I want to be focusing on, but with where I'm taking the story, it's super vital. I found writing this chapter to be kind of depressing (the subject matter is a little depressing), but it all gets resolved in the story, I promise you (and I'm having to remind myself! T_T)!
> 
> This chapter brings up one of the relevant tags: period-typical homophobia. During the Regency era, it was a crime punishable by death to be homosexual, which is pretty heavy, and now you know why this chapter is sad! Still, I believe it's important to talk about these things within the history of humanity, which is why I don't shy away from it, even in my happy ending fantasy fiction. 
> 
> Just bear with me! I promise you that this fic has a happy ending. Soooo many "happy endings", too, if you catch my drift. 😜 (refering to eventual smut tag, lolz) I'm working on chapter 8 already to get as far away from this sad chapter as possible! 
> 
> Thank you for reading!! 😭❤️

Rey sat staring at the man across from her with wide, disbelieving eyes, everything finally feeling right with her world again. She studied him, memorizing every part of his face, noting how much more handsome and grown up he looked compared to when he had left. Even so, she could see tell-tale signs of lacking health, the pallor of his typically warm brown color, the deep bags beneath his eyes, dirt at his throat and wrists, clothing tattered and worn, basic. She’d imagined him as he had left, strong and masculine in his British red coat, but the man before her was slightly broken, and she wondered if she would ever get to figure out why.

He stared at her, too, drinking her in, surprised how much she still looked like herself, though older and much more like a woman. She still had that awkward lankiness to her figure, however, not like other women of the time, she was strong and it showed. They faced one another, cross-legged on a blanket in the hay of the loft upstairs, sitting much like they used to as kids. He smiled grimly and extended one hand toward her, palm up, relieved when she took it in her own, their fingers entwining. Maybe nothing much had changed.

“You’re taller.” Finn mumbled.

“So are you.” Rey countered, unable to keep from smiling.

Her smile wounded him slightly. He frowned, turning his gaze away and picking at a hole in his pants.

“So you aren’t mad? That I abandoned you?”

“You tried to send me letters.” Rey frowned, shrugging nonchalantly. “And you came back for me, which is more than my parents ever did.”

Finn swallowed drily, his throat thick, and continued to stare anywhere but at her.

“Well, yes. And no.” He murmured guiltily. “I should have come back the moment I found out where you lived. But I got… distracted.”

“Finn, don’t.” Rey emphasized heavily, shaking her head and tugging on his hand with her own. “Do not apologize. You were in the army, it isn’t like you can just abandon your post willy nilly. You left because you had to. I’m only glad that you’re here, safe and sound.”

“Endangering you and your family.” He snorted, rolling his eyes and growling under his breath. “I am so very sorry to bring you into this. I just… I had nowhere else to go.”

“You belong here.” Rey insisted, an old echoing fear screaming in her heart that he was about to leave again. “Luke and Leia understand. They’ve got papers for you, a new life all ready to go.”

Finn laughed bitterly. “Yeah, I know. A chaplain?”

“They told you.” Rey, still embarrassed from the afternoon’s events, frowned sadly. “You’ve spoken with them?”

“Yeah.” Finn nodded, gesturing back toward the direction of the house. “I arrived an hour ago. They were the ones who told me I could find you in the barn, asked me to come, really. They said you were upset about something.”

Rey shook her head. “No, we’re not going to talk about me. You first. What happened?”

“I had to leave.” Finn shrugged.

“That’s it? You said you’d explain, Finn.” Rey growled in frustration, clapping her other hand over the one she held and giving him a pleading look. “Just tell me! I’ve been waiting for two weeks now.”

“Alright, alright.” Finn caved, wishing he could laugh, but when the taste in his mouth was only bitterness, it was hard to summon the feeling. “I met someone.”

“Met someone as in… romantically?”

“Yeah.” Finn uttered drily. “Romantically.”

“Aren’t militia allowed to marry? Why should that be such an issue?”

Finn’s expression slowly began to break into a look of pain. She watched him shrivel before her, pulling his hands away and placing his head within them, looking crumpled and dejected and so alone.

“Finn…” Rey whispered, bending over him and wrapping her arms around his strong frame, laying her cheek on his course hair, rubbing her hand in slow circles on his back just as he used to do for her in their childhood. Her heart shattered as he began to shake beneath her, quiet sobs wrenching from within him as he shuddered, his hands moving to grab hold of her gown, fisting it and pulling her closer as if she were keeping him tethered to the earth.

“It’s okay…” She whispered, rubbing circle after circle. “It’s okay… it’s okay.”

Slowly Finn began to come back to himself. His breathing calmed and his tears dammed up again, though he pressed his head into her shoulder and remained clammed up before her, afraid to look her in the eyes.

“I’m so scared to tell you.” Finn whispered. “I’m so scared of what you will say.”

Rey’s hand slowed to a stop on his back and she pulled away from him, forcing him to look up with a gentle touch to his cheek. Their eyes met and she took his hands in hers. “I swear, Finnegan, that nothing you will say to me right now will change how I feel about you. I never, ever turn my back on my family.” Rey uttered with vehemence, her voice catching at the end of her sentence.

Finn nodded and she pulled him into her embrace, holding him for as long as he needed it, then added over his shoulder “Unless you’re a murderer. If you’re a murderer, we have a problem.”

“I murdered someone.” Finn uttered seriously.

“What?” Rey pulled away from him and pierced him with a sharp glare. Finn cowered, convinced her eyes could chop wood, and laughed for the first time since seeing her again, ducking as she mock swung for his head with her arm.

“You missed.” He teased, knowing she couldn’t resist a challenge. But Rey saw through his attempt to change the subject and calmed her ire.

“Did you knock her up or something?” She asked thoughtfully. “Was she the Captain’s wife? Daughter?”

“No, Rey,” Finn started, but Rey continued, running through all the scandalous options she could think of.

“Prostitute? Hm, no. Militia wouldn’t care about that. What about-,”

“Rey, she’s not a she. She’s… ugh. **He’s** a man.”

Rey blinked at him, still and silent.

“Rey,” Finn started, worrying that his worst fears were about to be realized, that she, his only family in the world, would reject him, and he began to rise to his feet. “Rey, I know that it’s illegal-,”

“Finnegan!” Rey cried, leaning forward to slap him on the thigh in playful jest, seeming to have forgotten they were no longer children. “Why in the world would you think I’d give a flying goose about that?”

Finn felt a balloon of relief swell and pop within his chest, swearing he could hear the sound of air being released as the majority of his stress from the last few months finally left him. He sagged forward, watching her with a disbelieving smile, opening his mouth to thank her but she continued, nearly babbling now.

“Though, I would be lying if I hadn’t entertained marrying you.” Rey stated nervously, her cheeks a little pink. “Not that I ever hoped, but now this makes so much more sense and I just-,”

“Wait,” Finn held up a hand over her mouth, frowning sadly at her. “You wanted to marry me?”

Rey shook her head, then shrugged slightly, pulling away from his hand and whispering just barely, “Sort of?”

“Even with your beliefs in marriage?”

“Well, Finn.” Rey sighed. “You’re the only one who knows about those. Not even Rose, my best friend and closest sister, knows about my weird issues with monogamy. I just always figured it’d be you and me against the world. We’re a team, so…”

“I’m sorry.” Finn said honestly, his mouth a grim line. “I still could, you know… marry you?”

“But… the man you met… Finn, what really happened in India? I think it’s time you told me.” Rey urged, taking his hand in hers once more, holding it between both of hers and rubbing his wrist with her thumb.

“Well,” Finn took a deep breath, then launched into his tale. “His name is Poe Dameron. I met him at a pub. He was a sailor, captain actually, for a merchant vessel, one of the best alive and infamous around the world to sea folk. We were both drunk late one night and started singing songs together. We were the last two in the pub at closing time. We… got kicked out and Poe… well, he… he kissed me when we got outside.” Rey gasped with delight, squeezing his palm. “So I punched him.”

Rey laughed, and Finn found that he rather enjoyed telling this story to someone who seemed to enjoy it as much as he treasured it. His expression brightened as he continued. “We got into a fight then, not much of one as we were both drunk, but after I knocked him on his ass, I helped him up and he kissed me again. I had given in at that point, so I went with him to the merchant shipping office. I lived in the barracks and he lived in the sailor’s dorms while at port, so we didn’t have anywhere private to go and he had a key. We… well we spent the eve together, and the next day I left him. I was pretty fucking confused. I mean… we knew people who… people who did stuff like that in London, you and I, but I’d never thought it’d be me.”

Finn paused in thought then, cleared his throat, and continued.

“I thought I wouldn’t see him again. I avoided the pub I’d met him in, afraid, I guess. But he found me, somehow, at a café five nights later. I was drinking coffee and he just plopped down in front of me, kicked his feet up, and said ‘We have to do that again, soldier’.”

Rey giggled. It sounded like a line from a romance novel.

“I wasn’t nice.” Finn frowned, guilt in his features. “I called him a sodomite and told him to fuck off. He called me on it, reminded me of my willing role in our activities, offered to buy me another drink. I don’t know why to this day I said yes, but I did.”

He paused, glancing down at Rey’s hands in his, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand and swallowing thickly. “We did get a lot of time together, he and I, before it all fell apart.”

“What happened?” Rey whispered, enthralled by the story. “Did you love him?”

“I do love him.” Finn admitted softly, his voice trembling. “I do.”

It was many long moments before Finn grew brave enough to speak again.

“We had two blissful months, sneaking around, trying not to be caught. He had the bright idea to go to the brothel like we were going to pay for prostitutes. Instead we just paid for a room. We could be alone, in comfort there, until the pimp started overcharging us. Whenever I wasn’t on duty, I was with him. He took me onto his ship and showed me all the rigging, the sails, how to work it all. He invited me to leave with him on his next shipment out, said he could help me start over. I was going to do it, Rey. I was going to.”

“But the night I agreed, the night I told him, everything went wrong. We got drunk again, in celebration. We shouldn’t have been so risky, but we went back to the merchant shipping office, desperate for a safe place to just… love one another. But his bosses were working late and had stepped out for dinner. They discovered us.”

Rey’s stomach dropped from her body as if she were the one living this story. “Oh no, Finn. That’s… that’s a crime punishable by death.”

“I know.” Finn winced, his eyes welling with tears.

“Did he… did they…” Rey couldn’t bring herself to say it. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Finn.”

“No,” Finn shook his head, trying his best to hold back the tears, his anger fueling his strength. “Not yet. One of them held us up with a pistol and ordered us to get dressed; the other one told Poe he was fired and if he didn’t leave immediately that he would be reported to the authorities. We ran off and Poe tried to buy us passage on a boat leaving immediately, but the authorities caught up with us at the docks. The fucking merchants had reported him anyway.”

Finn was trembling with rage now, his hands pulled away from Rey’s and fisted in his lap. She listened sorrowfully, rapt with attention, as he finished his tale.

“We saw them coming from a distance away, and Poe told me to run. He reminded me that they didn’t know my name, just his because he worked for them. That if I ran, they couldn’t find me and put me on trial, too. And like a coward, I did. I ran. I abandoned him.”

“I stayed in town there long enough to find out that he had been shipped straight to Australia to live out the rest of his life as a criminal. It’s not something they typically do for… for people like us. The punishment for sodomy is death.”

Rey had no words to comfort him. She watched his face contort from sorrow to rage and back again, recognizing a look of guilt and patting him gently on the knee. “It isn’t your fault.”

“I left him, Rey.” Finn whispered in agony.

“He wanted you to.” Rey insisted. “He was doing what he could for the man that he loved in whatever time he had left.”

“I guess.” Finn whispered reluctantly, falling backward on the blanket to stare up at the dark rafters above. “I’ve thought many times about doing some criminal thing so I could be sent to Australia to be with him. But what kind of life would that be, laboring all day and night, only to keep sneaking around, and to be killed for real this time when we’re caught?”

Rey had never wanted to cheer Finn up more than she did in that moment. She thought frantically for something, anything to bring his mood back, and settled on the only thing that was burning in her curiosity.

“How does it work, exactly?” She asked carefully. “Do you just sort of… rub on each other until the… the stuff comes out?”

“REY!” Finn shouted, his face burning. He pressed his palms over his eyes, groaning heavily and sighing with exhaustion. “What a proper young lady you’ve grown up to be.”

“You’re the only one who knows that I’m really not.”

“That isn’t true.” Finn looked up at her, shaking his head gently. “Never say that again. You’re perfect.”

“Perfect enough to entice you back to women?” Rey joked as she lay beside him, placing her head on his chest. He wrapped her tightly in his arms and kissed the top of her head.

“No.” He whispered lovingly. “No, it’s Poe or die for me, I’m afraid.”

“Well, you can’t die.” Rey whispered, remembering her conversation with Mr. Chewbacca only hours earlier.

_“I swore to myself long ago that I would never marry unless I loved him more than life itself.”_

_“Love more than life? Does such a thing exist?”_

“How did you know that you loved him?” Rey inquired, her eyes growing heavy with the call to sleep again.

Finn thought about it for a long time, his hand raising to absentmindedly stroke through her loose hair. “I don’t actually know. Maybe it was that first kiss… or when he showed up at the café. Or the way he looked at me, trusted me not to share his secret as he tried to bring me into his world. He is brave and charismatic, funny, strong. I can’t remember not ever being in love with him.”

Rey felt a twinge of the green monster again, wondering where on earth this envy of love was coming from. She nestled closer against Finn’s side and threw her arm around his waist, content to let the world pass by as they stayed like this, hoping that it was just as comforting for him as it was for her.

“Finn,” She whispered softly. “If he isn’t dead, that means there’s hope.”

“You think so?” Finn whispered back, yawning sleepily.

“I know so.”

ꕥ

In the dark gray light of dawn, Rey awoke with a headache and swollen eyes, to a snoring Finn sprawled out in the hay, soundly sleeping. Her mouth feeling like wool, Rey descended the ladder as quietly as she could, tiptoed out of the barn to make the short walk back to the house by herself. Longbourn was still and quiet this early in the morning. Not even cook was awake yet. Rey slipped into the kitchen and dipped a tureen into a barrel of water, drinking directly from the spoon with a soothed sigh.

Having sated her thirst, she made her way up the stairs to the room she shared with Rose, moving as carefully as she could so as not to make a sound, but found the bed before her empty, a dark, lumpy form seated instead at the vanity table, a halo of dark hair lit only by a solitary candle. Rey took in her sister’s posture, noting how her head rested on her knees, one arm wrapped around herself, the other scribbling madly away on a sheet of paper on the surface of the vanity. The white hem of her night shift trailed on the ground, and Rose’s arms and shoulders were engulfed in Mr. Hux’s jacket. Rey bit her lip and slowly pushed the door closed, the click resounding loudly within the room, causing Rose to turn her head sharply behind her.

“Oh, Rey…” she whispered, her throat breaking just a little from disuse. “It’s you.”

“It’s me.” Rey said with a shrug, moving to stand behind her and glance down at her writing. Crumpled, balled up sheets of paper lay scattered across the surface of the vanity and Rose’s fingertips were stained with ink. “What are you doing?”

Rose shook her head as if it didn’t matter and lay the pen flat on the desk, balling up the paper she had been writing and rolling it away from her.

“I was trying to write a letter to Mr. Hux, but I end up sounding desperate in each and every one.”

Rey sank onto the cushioned ottoman beside her. “What do you mean?”

“We-…” Rose took a deep breath, resting her cheek in her palm, elbow on her knee. “It’s been days since the party, since we… since we were in the garden. I just… I thought after taking such a physical step in our relationship that there would be more-… more openness between us.”

Rey frowned. “Rose-,”

“I know… I know you’re going to say some men wouldn’t, but Armitage… he just seemed different. He seemed loyal. It’s just driving me mad that I haven’t heard from him. I hoped if I could send him a thoughtful letter then maybe he’d write me back and we could continue getting to know one another.”

Rey’s heart ached for Rose. She knew the real issue here: Rose had come clean with him on her background, how she was an orphaned daughter of merchants, an immigrant, with no money to her name, her beauty the only currency she possessed that the British would accept. Despite the validity of these fears, that Armitage could know the real her and deny her for it, Rey could not bring herself to speak it aloud. They had worked too hard, come too far, and been taught and enlightened by a strong and independent woman who had taken them in when no one else would.

“Let’s go to Meryton today, Rose.” Rey said instead, taking both of Rose’s hands and drawing her up from her seat. “Take this thing off,” She tugged on the sleeve of Armitage’s coat. “Because maybe he loves you, maybe he doesn’t, and regardless you are still the most amazing woman I have ever known and if he doesn’t see that, he’s a massive turd and he deserves to rot forever.”

Rose laughed halfheartedly and shrugged her arms out of the sleeves, catching the jacket before it could fall to the floor and draping it carefully over the back of the chair.

“You’re right. Okay.” Rose breathed in through her nose and exhaled with a much happier laugh, throwing her arms around Rey and squeezing her so hard Rey’s bones felt it. “You ground me, Rey. I think my sadness for you was encouraging negative thoughts. Are you okay?”

“I’m okay.” Rey assured her, bright and hopeful and happy. “Finn’s back. That’s a pretty heady cure for sorrow.”

“Mr. Chewbacca left right after you did, yesterday, barely saying anything to us. I think he was embarrassed.”

“I’m sure he was. It’s not an easy thing to pour your heart out to someone and be denied.”

Rose’s smile faltered a little as her thoughts went back to unhappier things. Rey growled and shook her head, spinning Rose around and pushing her toward the wardrobe. “Nope, no more sad conversation. We are going to Meryton and we are going to buy books and ribbons and also some cogs. I still need to fix that pocket watch for Jannah. I’m surprised she’s forgotten all about it!”

By the time Rose and Rey had washed up, dressed, and done one another’s hair in pretty buns, Rose’s in two and wrapped in braids, Rey’s in three and woven with ribbon, the rest of Longbourn had awoken. They descended the stairs to find Luke, Leia, Jannah, Amilyn, and Kaydel seated at the dining table, still in their sleep clothes. With them was Finn, who looked quite rough for the morning with straw in his hair and deep circles under his eyes, but he smiled at Rey when she entered.

“Well, you two look ready to greet the day.” Leia commented. “Lovely new gown, Rey. I forgot to ask where you got them.”

Rey glanced down at the pale red gown with black and white lace trim at each seam, a weaving pattern of ivy in dark green and black embroidery thread covered the bodice from the waist up, ending at her wrists in fluffy lace cuffs.

“Charity.” Rey remarked sarcastically. “I might be too proud for somethings, but free dresses I suppose I am not.”

“I talked her into keeping them.” Rose remarked lightly as they took their seats at the table. “She wanted to burn them, but I altered them instead.”

“Oh, is that embroidery yours?” Leia commented, impressed. She smiled and studied the bodice of Rey’s gown. “Very well done, Rose. You have quite a steady hand at that, now.”

“Thank you.” Rose beamed, giving Rey a ‘told-you-so’ look.

“Only Rose could win over Rey’s pride.” Luke remarked, snickering over his breakfast.

“Mr. Chewbacca found that out the hard way.” Amilyn added snootily.

Silence followed. Rey grit her teeth.

“Then why didn’t **you** marry him?” she growled, to which Amilyn slammed her fist on the table.

“Because he didn’t ask me!”

“Girls, please.” Leia interjected, rolling her eyes. “Yesterday was an unfortunate and embarrassing moment for all of us. Can we let sleeping dogs lie? What’s done is done.”

Finn cleared his throat then, and everyone turned to stare at him. “I’m sorry I just… I don’t know what happened with Mr. Chewbacca.”

“It is Rey’s story to tell.” Luke spoke over Amilyn, who was just itching to complain further about the issue.

“I’m going to Meryton today.” Rey changed the subject briskly. “With Rose. Luke, would it be safe for Finn to come, too? He has his papers, and just look at how he’s dressed. He needs new clothing.”

Luke swallowed a bite and cleared his throat. “Of course. It should be safe. There are no militia stationed here at the moment and he does have his papers. We do need to discuss that, however.”

“Discuss what?”

“What you will tell people. He is Henry Fallsbrook in public. A home is being prepared for him on the grounds of the chapel.”

“Actually…” Finn interjected calmly, taking his napkin from his lap and laying it on the table. “I am so very grateful for all that you have done for me, but I have no intention of taking the chaplain’s position. I have some things of my own that I need to accomplish.”

Rey looked worriedly from Luke to Finn, studying both of their expressions with curiosity and nerves.

“We can speak about this later.” Luke uttered with a note of finality, “In private.”

“How come I never get to know anything?” Jannah interrupted with a whine. “Can I come to Meryton with you, Rey?”

“I suppose so.”

“Amilyn,” Rose included amiably. “Would you like to come?”

“I have a letter to write.” Amilyn huffed, dismissing herself from the table and disappearing upstairs.

“I’ll go get ready.” Jannah mused carefully, following after her.

“There are too many girls in this house.” Finn uttered gravely. “Too many girls.”

ꕥ

The walk to Meryton was an all-around success. The walk wasn’t short, it took them just under four hours, but the day was quite lovely with sunshine and the ground was dry enough that no one got any dirty hems. Along the way, Rey fully introduced her sisters to Finn, telling them some of her more favorite and happier stories about their time together as children. The conversation was genial and merry, and Rey felt quite happy to know that he was fitting in well with the people she’d chosen to love as her family.

They spent a few hours strolling amongst the shops in Meryton, first dropping in to buy a few ribbons and spools of colored thread, and a few beads. Rey picked up her cogs, receiving a strange look from the clerk as she exchanged money for them, the only woman in the shop doing any purchasing, and they perused the tiny book store for a long while, coming out with a tome of Greek myths, though Rey had protested, still remembering the last time she had chosen to read one. As they ended their journey at a gentleman’s clothing shop, Rey had to focus very hard not to think about a certain tall, broad, and handsome individual, one who had wormed his way back into her thoughts unbidden at the memory of his comments on the tale of Hades and Persephone.

_What was it that he had said about marriage?_ Rey thought to herself, immediately chastising her mind for thinking up such a thing. His response lumbered into her thoughts, however, and she could remember the rumbling timbre of his voice as he said “What of passion? Love?” Rey couldn’t think what stodgy, stuffy, arrogant Ben Solo knew about either of the subjects, but something tickled deep within her in curiosity.

“What do you think?” Finn’s voice broke her thoughts as he cleared his throat from behind her. She turned and took in his appearance, standing before her dressed like a gentleman in a dark blue suit with a green vest and soft cream cravat.

“Very handsome.” Rey smiled warmly.

“Thank you.” Finn tapped the heels of his shoes together and turned to pay the clerk. Rey followed him, reaching for her little purse in the pocket of her dress.

“I have some funds on loan from Luke, if you need them.”

“It’s fine. I brought my entire savings over with me from the mil-… from the place I was living before.” He caught himself, smiling softly at the clerk who, thankfully, didn’t even seem to be paying attention.

“Rose,” Jannah was begging in the front of the shop. “Buy me these gloves, will you?”

“I can make you a set of gloves.” Rose offered. Jannah frowned.

“Why does everything we wear have to be hand-made or handed down?”

“Because tailored clothing is expensive.”

“Tell me about it.” Finn laughed as he and Rey joined them. “Half my life savings to put clothes on my body.”

They mumbled replies, commiserating with him as they all exited the shop, agreeing it was time to make their way home as they were all quite famished, breakfast having faded away many hours before. The walk back was not nearly as fun, as the sun was quite high in the sky and the temperature had increased dramatically. Jannah was just beginning to complain about how much further it was going to be when the sound of hoofs on the road sounded behind them. They automatically all began to make their way into the tall grasses around the road to avoid the riders, a natural reaction, but turned as the pounding hoofbeats slowed in tempo nearby as they approached.

“Hello!” called a cheerful voice. “Funny we should run into you here. We just returned from a visit to your house.”

Armitage Hux crossed the distance between them on his trotting horse, slowing to a stop, his eyes immediately finding Rose, who practically blossomed beneath his gaze, like a flower opening up to find the sun after a storm.

“Mr. Hux. How good to see you again.” Rose spoke, curtsying deeply and smiling timidly.

Hux descended from his horse as the second rider approached, coming into view from behind a clump of leafy tree branches. Rey’s heart leapt within her chest as she saw who it was, not surprised at his presence but at her body’s reaction, and she instinctively stepped closer to Finn, sliding her hand around his arm. Ben nodded his head in greeting to her as Hux and Rose fell into quiet conversation, his eyes immediately drawn down to Rey’s hand on Finn’s arm. As his eyes flicked to see which gentleman had such an honor, his expression changed from warm pleasantry to stone-cold fury.

“I’ve decided to hold a ball at Netherfield.” Hux was saying to Rose and Jannah, then gestured to Rey and Finn. “You’re entire family is invited.”

“Oh, that sounds delightful.” Rose stated, then nodded her head in Finn’s direction. “Mr. Hux, Mr. Solo, this is Mr. Fallsbrook.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Hux stated pleasantly, though he had just noticed Ben’s peculiar behavior and a subtle frown marked his lips.

“Mr. Fallsbrook?” Ben spat, his horse starting to stamp in place beneath him as he squeezed his thighs a little to hard against its side. “What an interesting name.”

With that, Ben’s horse spun in place and took off in a gallop, leaving Hux to stammer and scramble up onto his own steed, uttering a hasty goodbye.

“I’m so sorry. Something must be the matter. I will see you all at the ball!” Hux called over his shoulder as he chased after his friend, leaving the four of them staring after them, peculiar looks on all of their faces.

“Whatever was that about?” Jannah remarked out loud.

“I have no idea.” Rose murmured, shaking her head, disappointment welling up within her that her time with Hux had been cut so short for this peculiarity.

Only Rey had any inclination of the girls present as to what may be the matter, because she could feel Finn trembling and shaking beneath her with just as much fury as Ben had summoned, or perhaps it was fear, she wasn’t sure, but she was certain that there was some bad blood between the two gentlemen, and she was determined to figure it out.

“Rose, will you take Jannah on ahead?” Rey asked softly as Finn pulled away from her and walked several feet away, his hands rising up to lock behind his head.

Rose intuitively agreed and grabbed Jannah by the hand, yanking her off down the road when she protested, yet again, that she never got to know anything and how it was so very unfair.

Rey stood very still after they had gone, watching Finn stand still in the grass and hang his head in his hands. His shoulders shuddered, and moments later soft sobs could be heard drifting across the space between them.

“Finn?” She approached him as one might a wounded bird, tentatively and with great care. “Finn… what’s the matter?”

He didn’t reply immediately. It took Rey placing her hand on his shoulder to snap him out of his inward reverie, and he turned to her with reddened eyes full of fear.

“That was him.” He snarled out, still trembling with what Rey now recognized as pure adrenaline and rage. “That man was him, fucking Ben Solo, emperor of the fucking high seas and owner of the single largest trading and merchant company outside of the East India Trading Company.”

Rey shook her head in confusion, taking Finn by the hand and trying to pull him away into the shade of a nearby copse of trees. “Finn, you’re not making any sense. How do you know Ben Solo?”

“That was him, Rey!” Finn choked in agony, pulling his hand from hers and gesturing angrily in the direction Ben just rode in. “He’s one of the men who found us, Poe and me. He’s the reason I had to run. He’s the reason Poe is slaving away in Australia, alone. And now he knows I’m here, in England. And he’s gone off to tell the authorities, I just know it.”

Rey hadn’t truly known hatred until now. She’d only thought she hated Ben, for his arrogance and irritating pompous ego, his flippant dismissal of his mother, but this was different. This was inexcusable, disgusting, despicable, abhorrent, and she stood there in that field wishing a million different curses upon his head.

ꕥ

It took all of Rey’s coercive power to make Finn continue home with her. He tried many times to convince her that he had to run again, that he was putting them in danger, that if he stayed any longer, not only would he be caught and potentially put to death for his “crimes”, but their entire family would likewise be negatively implicated as well. In the end, the only comfort for the both of them was knowing that Ben Solo did not know Finn’s real name and that Rey lived with the only person on the planet who could possibly predict whether Ben would really do that to someone currently staying as the guest of his own mother. Rey eventually made sense to Finn when she insisted that if Ben’s mother was found to be harboring a homosexual from the law, then it would taint him by association. As far as Rey was concerned, Ben’s reputation was the only thing that mattered to him.

They made their way quickly to Longbourn after that, Finn’s eyes darting around in paranoia as they followed the road, looking and listening for signs of any approaching dangers. The journey seemed short, so nervous was Finn’s behavior and wrathful Rey’s feelings, that when they approached the house and saw a familiar looking horse wandering around outside in the front yard, Rey swooned at the sudden nausea of terror that seeped over her, and Finn ducked down behind the shrubbery lined fence, pressing his palms into his eyes.

“Rey, whose horse is that?” He asked fearfully.

“It might not be his… I didn’t get a good look at it.” Rey tried to console him, but turned at the sudden loud crash heard from Longbourn house. She glanced back at her home as Ben Solo emerged from the front door, the slamming of which had sounded the crash. He paused on the steps as he spotted her a distance away, his eyes narrowed on her and face impassive. She glared back at him, all of her vitriolic loathing evident within her wrathful, shriveling stare. He nodded his head in her direction, almost imperceptibly, then strode forward to mount his horse, taking off in a hard ride in the direction of Netherfield.

“He’s gone.” Rey muttered to Finn, her fingertips touching softly to the top of his head. “He’s gone… let’s go inside.”

“Rey, I should just go.”

“Not before we find out why he was here. Maybe you’re wrong about him.” Rey doubted it, but Finn needed hope.

They were greeted by Leia as they entered the house. Her mouth was spread thin into a grim frown, and Luke lingered in the doorway of his study. He gestured to the both of them to come into the room and they both turned, Finn as if he were meeting his maker. Leia followed them into the study, all silent as they took their seats while Luke shut the door.

“So… now I know why you were running from the military.” Luke remarked brazenly as he crossed to take his seat behind the desk.

“Ben Solo is a liar.”

“My son is many things,” Leia interjected with strength. “but a liar is not one of them.”

“What did he tell you?” Rey questioned.

“Everything.” Luke sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose as he closed his eyes thoughtfully. “He was pretty angry with us for not including him with the whole truth. It would have been nice to know it ourselves, if I’m being honest.”

“You cannot hate Finn for loving someone!” Rey snapped at him, ready to defend, and rose angrily to her feet.

“Rey,” Leia uttered kindly, leaning forward to touch her wrist. “No one hates Finn for loving someone. Luke only meant that we were placed in great danger by taking him in.”

“I’ll leave then. If Solo is going to the authorities, I’ll leave before they can attach this to you.” Finn cut in.

“Ben is not going to tell the authorities.”

Rey and Finn stared at Leia with disbelief. As the words sank in, Rey plopped tiredly into her seat, eyes wide.

“Why not?” Finn finally asked.

“Ben is the one who created your new papers. I didn’t tell him who they were for, or any details, so when he realized you were Mr. Fallsbrook, it angered him.”

Rey felt more confused than ever. Finn looked thunderstruck.

“Okay, but why would that keep him from telling the authorities as he did before in India?”

A flash of pain struck across Leia’s face. She slumped forward and gripped the arm of the chair, shaking her head in disappointment. “He is the one who told on you and your partner?”

“Yeah, and now Poe’s in Australia. He could be dead for all I know. They say the criminal colonies are extreme.”

“Well, if he tells the authorities now, he is implicated. He made the papers for you and Leia has proof. If he tells the authorities he will sink with you. With all of us.” Luke uttered gravely.

The small room fell silent then, and everyone breathed as if taking one sigh of relief in unison.

“So,” Leia began. “Finn, you are welcome to stay with us as long as you need.”

“Thank you.” Finn swallowed; his jaw tight.

“We really need to start calling him Henry…” Luke sighed. Everyone laughed, the sound hollow. But at least laughter was a step in the right direction.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Finn goes on another journey and a ball is held at Netherfield

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally here - THE dance!! 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! I appreciate all of your fabulous comments, as I love to share this story with you all! Enjoy chapter 8!

Two uneventful days passed at Longbourn. Rey and Finn spent much of their time catching up, but it was different than it had been in their childhood. Finn was distant, pulling away from her, and she could tell that he was pining for what he had lost. Having never been in love herself, Rey didn’t much understand the way it could physically change a person. Love was an emotion, so it seemed the pain would remain inside, not visible. But while Finn laughed and smiled, his eyes didn’t reflect the same visage. His cheeks, normally full and round with mirth, were beginning to look gaunt as he ate less and less, and he was prone to long moments of staring into nothingness when no one was paying him any attention.

She tried to encourage him to bond with her sisters, but she felt very much like a bird trying to make a fish fit in with her bird friends in their cozy tree. She knew he was longing for Poe Dameron, for the home he had found in his arms, and so she did the only thing she could do for him to truly make him happy. Luke, Rey, and Leia met with Finn in the study one final time, and they told him they were paying him passage to Australia, as Henry Fallsbrook the chaplain, to serve as the new minister in one of the criminal colonies there. Leia claimed to have further connections from her late husbands privateering days who could help Finn find Poe and help him escape. Rey did not tell him she was agreeing to give up on the measly dowry Luke had set aside for her in marriage to pay for it, partly because she was certain she would not need it, and partly because she feared Finn would not take it if he knew. But he was so relieved for their help, so excited at the idea that there was hope for him and Poe, at last, that he didn’t even question it, but accepted with overwhelming gratitude.

The day he was to leave, he and Rey spent the entire morning walking on the grounds outside lost in conversation, an aching pain beginning to take root in Rey’s heart. She had only just gotten Finn back again and having to say goodbye to him was taking all of her strength. She remained cheerful and upbeat for him, telling him that he was going to succeed, that she couldn’t wait to meet Poe when he found him and finally brought him back to meet her. Finn, even in those few hours, brightened significantly, promising that if he did get Poe out of his prison sentence, that she would be the first person he introduced the man to.

After their walk, Finn packed his horse and said his goodbyes to Luke, Leia, and the girls, saving Rey for last. They hugged one another, both trying not to wonder if it was for the last time.

“Promise me you’ll write.” Rey whispered in his ear as she clung to him, trying her hardest to keep her eyes from welling with tears. “Now that you know my address, anyway.”

“I promise, Rey.” Finn whispered back, kissing the top of her head. “If you’ll do something for me.”

“Anything.” Rey breathed, feeling betrayed by her biology as a tear trickled down her cheek.

“You told me my first night here that you’d thought of marrying me. I can still do that, if you’re willing to make some sacrifices. Many people who love as I do conceal themselves behind a fictional marriage.”

Rey wanted to feel excited. She wanted to feel relieved, hopeful, thankful that she could be herself and play pretend wife to her most beloved friend in the whole world while he lived happily with his love, but the idea disappointed her more than anything, and it showed in her face. She bit her lip, frowning softly, and leaned away from him a little to study his face with narrowed eyes and crossed brows.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Finn chuckled, pushing one finger at the spot between her eyebrows and smoothing it out. “Then my request is this: stay open to love. Accept opportunities. Don’t be afraid.”

Rey eyed him suspiciously. “They told you about Mr. Chewbacca, didn’t they?”

Finn laughed. “I don’t mean accept marriage proposals from guys you’ve just met. However, don’t be afraid if someone wants to get to know you a little bit more. You are not going to turn into your mother.”

Finn was probably the only person on earth who could say that without getting smacked, but it still stung. She bit her lip and rolled her eyes, though she crushed herself to him and hugged him tight around the neck.

“I’ll try.” Was all she said on the matter.

“Good.” Finn smiled against her cheek, hugging her back. “I have to go, Rey.”

“I hope you find him.” Rey whispered.

“I hope so, too.”

“I hope you get to rub on each other until the stuff comes out.” Rey added teasingly.

Finn spluttered and ripped away from her, walking stiffly back toward his horse, clearing his throat quite loudly. “You cannot talk like that anymore. You sound stupid. Read an encyclopedia or something.”

“I promise to know all the correct terms by the time you return!” Rey called as he climbed onto his horse and turned to leave. “If only to tease you more!”

“Goodbye, Rey.” Finn waved.

“Goodbye…”

And just like that, he was gone again.

Rey wandered back into the house and up the stairs, feeling emptier than she had in years. Sending Finn on his mission was the right decision, but she selfishly couldn’t help but wonder why it had to be done that way, why Luke couldn’t have sent an employee or someone else, anyone else. Nothing in her life had changed much since Finn had come and gone, but somehow things felt more hopeless and without purpose than they had before he had arrived.

Rose was styling her hair at the vanity when Rey walked into their room, sitting in her underclothes and an unlaced corset.

“Oh.” Rey sighed heavily as she remembered, falling face first onto their bed with a groan. “The ball… I completely forgot.” She mumbled into the cushion.

Rose ran over to the bed, half her hair falling down, and jumped onto the mattress, bouncing twice before falling onto Rey’s back.

“Yes, the ball, the one at Netherfield!” Rose squealed, rubbing her cheek onto Rey’s shoulder-blade as she hugged onto her. “And I know you’re going to want to say you’re not going, but you have to go. For me.”

Rey whined into the mattress.

“I can’t understand what you’re saying.”

Rey lifted her head and breathed in quickly, spitting hair from her mouth. “No, Rose. You’re right. I don’t want to go.”

“What are you going to do then? Sit around and cry about Finn?”

“That’s not fair.” Rey bit back.

“It is. You told me as much the other day when I was scribbling mad thoughts to Armitage.”

“That’s not the same. I’ve known Finn my whole life. You met Hux three weeks ago.”

Rose frowned, sitting up and pulling away from her. “Okay. So that’s how you feel…”

Rey did not want to treat Rose badly just because she was in a bad mood, and she sat up, reaching for Rose’s hand in supplication. 

“Rosie, I’m sorry.” She said. “I just really don’t want to go to that party. You know who will be there and I think if I see him I might just go off.”

“Then go off on him.” Rose huffed, giving Rey a challenging look. “No one would expect anything less from you, and I doubt anyone would mind if you did. Everyone thinks he’s pompous prick.”

“Hux might mind.” Rey muttered, tilting her head to one side and giving Rose a meaningful look. “It could hurt your relationship.”

Rose sighed, turning to glance at herself in the mirror. “What relationship?” She poked at her hair, trying to get one of the curled loops she’d been placing in a bun to stick in the correct shape. “This is why I need you there. I’m so scared that he doesn’t like me anymore, if he doesn’t and I end up all alone at this party then I’ll self-destruct.”

Rey growled and clenched her teeth, punching a pillow in three swift moves, then tossed the pillow at Rose’s face. “FINE. Fine, I’ll go. But you owe me. One favor. Anything I want.”

“Yes!!” Rose shouted with glee, then slammed a pillow down on Rey’s face with a laugh, fleeing as soon as Rey rose with murder in her eyes. Rey hurled the pillow at a frightening speed toward Rose, who dodged gracefully, and it hit the floor and rolled into the fireplace, becoming covered with ash and soot.

“Ohhh, disgusting!” Rey groaned and shot to her feet. “Look what you did.”

“That’s your fault.” Rose laughed, turning to look at herself in the mirror again. “Oh no, my hair! Rey!”

All the previous work she had done had come undone in their pillow tussle, now quite a tangled mess of hair and pins. Rey crossed the room and urged Rose onto the seat, picking up a comb.

“I will take care of your hair.” Rey offered kindly. “Which gown are you going to wear?”

“The white one I wore to last years May festival in Meryton. The ball is themed: all ladies are to wear white and all gentleman black.”

“It’s themed?” Rey groaned, tucking loops of curls here and there and pinning them, a few pins hanging out of the corner of her mouth. “But my gown from that festival is ruined. I spilled wine on it. I guess I’ll just have to stay home. Oh no!”

“No, you won’t. When I read the theme in the invitation Armitage left for us I went ahead and fixed your dress for you. I added some embroidery to the bodice where the stain was, and an entire layer of cream lace to the dress as a whole, so the stain is quite concealed. You don’t even notice it’s there! I’m quite pleased with my work.”

Rey couldn’t even be mad, Rose seemed so happy with herself. And talk of dresses and men and balls was doing its job of distracting her from her sorrow. She relaxed a little bit as she put the finishing touches on Rose’s hair, placing tiny white flowers in each little curl of the bun.

“Finished.” Rey clapped her hands together once, then gestured toward one of the posts of their bed. “Grab on. I’ll tie the corset.”

Rose stood and moved to wrap her hands around the bedpost, planting her feet to prepare for the tugging.

“Do you want a ‘I can breathe’ cinching or a ‘great cleavage’ cinching?”

Rose laughed as Rey yanked on the first strings, the sound dying away in a soft wheeze.

“I’d definitely like to breathe.”

ꕥ

Netherfield loomed in the distant twilight, all of it’s many windows and marble Grecian columns glowing with bright warmth and light from within. Flaming torches lined the driveway and at least twenty-five footmen waited outside to guide guests and direct carriage parking, all of them immaculately dressed in fine black and silver livery. Rey thought to herself it looked rather like a fairytale castle, or perhaps, due to the Greek influence of architecture, something out of a myth. Her thoughts went once more to the tale of Hades and Persephone, the image of a certain young gentleman swimming into her mind soon after, which she dismissed impatiently. She would not think of Ben Solo tonight.

As the carriage pulled up the drive and slowed to a stop, each of them exited and the ladies took the hand of a footman as it was offered, being guided up the many marble steps and into the great entrance hall. No expense had been spared in decoration within; brightly lit braziers hung from the ceiling casting warm light on the white marble walls in every which way, and streams of white and cream-colored flowers of every color hung like garland on the walls. Large bouquets of similarly colored flowers were placed in enormous vases standing alone on the floors, and white ribbons and gauzy lace draped over entrances to doors and rooms beyond, enhancing that fairytale feeling.

A large crowd was already gathered within, and as they moved further into the great hall, a herald in the doorway announced their names loudly over all the voices to the guests. Rey felt warmth in her cheeks at hearing her name shouted so and wondered if all snooty rich parties were this pretentious. But even she could not scorn the beauty of Netherfield at night, bedecked with so many flowers and such beauty.

“Miss Johnson. Miss Tico. I am so glad you could make it.”

Rey and Rose turned to smile at Armitage Hux, who offered his hand to Rose, took hers, and kissed the top of her gloved hand as he bowed. Rose smiled tentatively and glanced quickly up at Rey, then back to Armitage, who did not release her hand as he lowered it again.

“Was your entire family able to come?” He asked her eagerly, and Rose nodded, pointing them out in the crowd.

“Even Kaydel is here. She’s the youngest.” Rose told him.

“Miss Tico, Miss Johnson.” Simpered a familiarly annoying voice, and Millicent sidled up beside her brother, hands folded primly over one another on the skirt of her gown, as she took in what Rose and Rey were wearing. “Lovely gowns, ladies. I’m so glad you had the correct attire to fit the theme.”

Rey wondered then if Millicent had chosen white in the hopes that two poor orphan girls wouldn’t own any. She really hoped Millicent would someday choke on a chicken bone.

“Miss Hux,” Rey began, swearing in her head that Rose owed her even more after this. “Would you be so kind as to show me to your refreshment area? I feel a bit parched.”

Millicent gave her an icy look, knowing that she was trying to get her away so that Rose could be alone with her brother. The part that caused an icy chill to run down Rey’s spine, however, was how vicious and determined Millicent looked as she cast a disgusted look over Rose and Armitage standing hand in hand.

“Of course.” She sneered in a nasally voice, turning to lead the way through the crowd.

Rose gave Rey a thankful smile as she and Millicent left them, then turned to smile up at Hux. “I love the decorations. They are simply stunning.” She breathed.

“Yes. As are you.” Armitage stepped in closer to her as the number of people filling the room began to increase and spoke near her ear. “What would you like to do first, this evening? Would you like to dance?”

Rose’s smile was giddy, and she shook her head with a soft laugh. “Are you intending to spend the entire evening at your own party with me?”

“Why, yes.” Hux raised a brow. “I should have thought that was obvious. I basically threw this party for you.”

“What?”

“I threw it to have a reason to see you.” Hux clarified.

Rose suddenly wished that they were alone but was immensely grateful for this party giving her an opportunity to even think it an option anymore.

“I don’t want to dance, yet.” Rose leaned in to speak to him over the din of the crowd. “Can we move somewhere less loud and just talk a while?”

“Your wish is my command.” Hux said, then tucked her hand against his chest and led her off through the crowd.

Millicent led Rey all the way up to the refreshment table, gesturing with a grand sweep of her arm at all of the wines, ales, and teas available to enjoy. Rey smiled and thanked her with a small curtsy, then stepped forward to accept a glass of rosé from a black and silver dressed servant. As she raised the glass to take a sip, she felt Millicent brush against her shoulder.

“I’m really quite sorry that Rose and Armitage won’t be able to marry.” She whispered hurtfully, surveying the revelers around them with an arrogant air.

“Excuse me?” Rey growled, not bothering to hide her irritation behind politeness anymore.

“Well, Armitage is the only male heir in our family. He has to marry well, to keep the wealth and stability of our family name.”

The hand holding the glass of wine was shaking so hard that some of the pale pink liquid sloshed over Rey’s hand. “I suppose he would have to marry well, since his much older sister is still single and potentially in line for spinsterhood.”

Millicent turned in a whip like motion, raising her hand as if to slap Rey, but caught herself as a mountainous presence approached them both. She slid her hands back down to her side and grinned as beautifully as she could, fiddling with her hair with her free hand.

“Mr. Solo,” Millicent crooned, offering her hand to him, expecting him to take it.

Rey felt a shuddering thrill of pleasure when Ben not only refused to look at Millicent, but he ignored her offered hand and her presence altogether entirely. Glancing up into his molten brown eyes, time seemed to slow to a still as he once again extended a hand before her. Everyone else vanished away, and Rey’s former rage dissolved into a strange sense of calm, as if she had stepped into the eye of a hurricane.

“Miss Johnson, would you do me the honor of joining me in the next dance?”

“I will.” Rey stated softly, something like alarm beginning to register within her. She did not feel like herself as she placed her smaller hand in his. Thoughts warred within her as his large, strong hand engulfed hers with its warmth; whether to be pleased or disgusted, she was unsure. He took her glass of wine from her other hand and deposited it into Millicent’s without a word, then turned to lead Rey through the room. As she fell into step behind him, she turned back to meet Millicent’s stare with her own, giving her an innocent smile.

As soon as they were out of Millicent’s view, however, the momentary spell Rey had been under vanished immediately, leaving her only with her disgust and distaste for the man currently holding her hostage by the hand. She had no idea what had come over her, what had possessed her to accept yet another unwanted dance request from this horrible man. To placate herself, she told herself she was doing this, too, for Rose, to get back at Millicent, who was just as horrible as Ben Solo, perhaps worse.

They entered the dance hall just as a song was ending, and Rey was more than happy to pull her hand from Ben’s as she moved to take her place across from him with the other dancers. She tried to focus on breathing through her nose and exhaling through her mouth, calmly, telling herself that she could do this, she could dance with him and then be done with it.

Their eyes met again as the somber music stuck up, Ben’s eyes never leaving hers as he bowed low and raised up again, then darted down to examine her form as she curtsied. The way he dragged his eyes down her gown made Rey flood with heat, and she snapped her gaze away as she turned and spun slowly forward, raising her arm toward his. They took hands again, hers touching his as lightly as possible, and together they turned to promenade down the center behind the other couples. Ten steps into the dance and a tension Rey was unable to name swelled between them until she could no longer bear it.

“Are you always such a talkative partner?” Rey remarked coldly as she crossed in front of him, turning under his hand and pointing her right foot away from him.

“Is one supposed to talk while dancing?” Ben questioned with a curious tone, pulling her back toward him and placing his hand on the small of her back. Rey’s head swam at the sudden touch, heat blossoming in her chest, a heat she could not name and felt sure was from how loathsome she found him.

“If one is intent on having a good time, yes.” Rey replied. “Though I suppose you do not dance much, so you wouldn’t know.”

She felt his fingers tense against her back and his palm slid lower, resting just above her backside. Rey swallowed, her skin crawling, and held her breath as the neared the end of the promenade, thankful that she could move away from his singeing touch.

“I find it difficult to dance with people I do not know.” Ben admitted softly.

Rey breathed blissful cool air as they separated and turned, placing palm to palm with their opposite partners and spinning in slow circles with them, before they crossed the center back to one another.

“And no one can be introduced in a ballroom?” She countered, placing her hand on his raised arm and following him back to the beginning of the promenade.

“I do not have the eloquence required for conversing with strangers.” Ben explained, taking her hand again as they reached the beginning, every nerve in his body attuned to just that little touch between them.

“Nor the patience.” Rey remarked with a judgmental laugh.

Ben glanced at her with narrowed eyes, picking up on her derision, squeezing her hand a little tighter as he guided her around again in the same moves they had done before, placing his hand once more on the lowest part of her back. He could feel the way her spine curved inward, the way her bottom rounded out beyond his pinky, and just the touch of her was enough to make him ache with longing, however infuriating she could be.

“And what would you know of my patience?” He countered coolly.

“Plenty,” She cocked her head with a wry smirk, pulling away from him again as they once more swapped partners and spun hand to hand, then returned to one another again. “I know you were not patient enough with Mr. Fallsbrook.”

“Mr. Fallsbrook?” Ben snipped back, his cool demeanor instantly becoming hostile. “Whatever could you mean?”

“He had the misfortune of being at your mercy, having been made the target of your power and pompous arrogance.”

“Oh, his misfortune has been great indeed.” Ben growled as they turned and wove criss-cross over the aisle again, swinging back and taking their hands once more. There were no sparks this time, only irritation, and Ben was not surprised to find that she was squeezing his hand back just as hard. His fingers were starting to go numb. “You seem to think you know a great deal about my experiences with Mr. Fallsbrook.”

“I know everything I need to know about you.” Rey stopped in the middle of the dance floor, dropping his hand and piercing him with the fiercest glare she could muster.

Ben turned slowly to look down at her, his incredulous expression melting slowly into curious wonder. He took in her posture, the rigidity of her shoulders, the set of her feet, her small, trembling fists, her beautiful hazelnut eyes.

“You do?” He whispered darkly, stepping past the circle of propriety until his nose was mere inches from hers, examining the depths in her eyes and taking in her trembling rage. “Ah, you do…” he breathed out roughly, watching her pupils dilate in some primal reaction to his voice, her breath catching in her throat.

The party around them disappeared, the music vanished, only the sound of her breathing, the sight of her chest raising and lowering with each heavy breath, the burning of her eyes as they flickered down to his mouth for only half a second before strengthening and meeting his once more. Ben leaned in, could smell the sweet wine on her breath, lavender in her hair, trying his best to remember that they were not alone, that crowds were watching, that kissing her now, here, was a very terrible idea. He pulled away from her with great pain, the tension snapping between them, and they were back in the room, the dancers struggling to move around them.

Rey felt had never felt more alive nor more jittery. Her entire body felt flushed, and she thought she might combust from the heat. She slowly turned to face the correct direction for the dance and held up her hand, waiting for Ben to take it. When he did, he led her forward, hand placed once more on the small of her back, as he guided her around. Neither of them looked at one another again, but neither could forget the other, all of their attention focused on each and every miniscule touch that joined them together. The song began to end and Rey slid from Ben’s touch, turning the opposite way and ending at the place she had started. On the final note, the men bowed and women curtsied, and Rey and Ben met eyes one final time.

“Thank you for the dance.” She uttered, all politeness now.

“No, thank you.” Ben uttered roughly.

Considering herself dismissed, Rey turned and walked away from him into the crowd, leaving him standing there, alone, helpless to look anywhere but at her lithe form as she moved further away from him.

On the other side of Netherfield house, Rose and Armitage were seated in the dining room at one of the small tables that had been set up to accommodate larger crowds of people. They were the only couple seated. A few lonely singletons sat here and there, but everyone else was milling about with their drinks in tow, moving from room to room, asking and receiving dance requests, gossiping as country folk were wont to do. In fact, many were gossiping about the ginger man and the orphan woman, saying some very unkind things, but neither of them took note, in their own little bubble.

“I was three when my father bought me my first horse. I learned to ride before I was five.” Armitage was telling her. They were turned toward one another in their chairs, Rose’s knees angled between his own wide-spread ones, hidden beneath the table. “When I turned eight I was shipped off to boarding school. It’s where I met Ren.”

“Ren?” Rose questioned, raising an curious eyebrow.

“Oh, sorry.” Hux gave a tentative laugh, raising a hand to brush a tendril of hair back into place from his forehead. “That’s what I called Ben Solo, in school days. He was captain of an award-winning fencing team: The Knights of Ren, so he had a title. Silly, rich-boy school traditions…”

Rose shook her head with a smile. “No, not silly. It sounds sort of fun.”

“That school was anything but fun.” Armitage glanced down at her knees held between his, his mouth pulling in a soft frown. “I don’t like who I was back then.”

Rose eyed him in thoughtful quiet. “Who were you?”

“A horrendous ass.” Hux chortled, shifting in his seat and somehow sliding closer, his fingertips resting against her left knee. “I… I am a person who admires control and power. It took a lot of socializing with strong-minded people, like Ben, to get me to see that I had to give more than I could take.”

Rose stared at the place where his fingertips touched her knee, silently wishing him to touch more of his hand to her leg. “Is that why you clean everything?”

Armitage flushed a brilliant shade of magenta and leaned back in his seat, removing his hand from her knee. “Miss Johnson told you about that?”

Rose knew he was embarrassed, but it was quite adorable to see him grow so flustered. She just wanted his hand back, so she leaned forward and took it within her gloved palms, pulling him back toward her and lowering their connected hands into her lap.

“It seems like something a… controlling person would feel the need to do.” Rose pursed her lips as she mused, coyly removing one of her hands from his so that his palm fell against her thigh. She felt his thumb twitch, and something tingled like mad in the lower region of her torso. “If you control your environment, you control what happens to you: illness, vermin, the judgment of your neighbors.”

Armitage was looking at her as if through new eyes, his face vulnerable and somehow soft, his cheeks relaxing from magenta into a pleasant shade of pink. He stroked his thumb down the side of her soft flesh, pleased when she tensed and leaned into it. “You explain it better than I ever have.” He told her, watching her perfectly rose-pink mouth pull into a pout as he stroked her again, his hand slowly sliding higher.

“Rose!” cried a young woman’s voice, causing both Rose and Armitage to pull quickly apart, their hands suddenly visible upon the table, as Kaydel approached their table, a bouquet of flowers in her hands.

“Rose, I don’t know what to-… what to…” Kaydel broke off as she noticed who Rose was sitting with, recognizing Armitage only as the mysterious and strange master of this fantastically expensive house. “Oh no.”

“Kay-D, what’s the matter?” Rose glanced from Kaydel’s suddenly fearful face to the flowers in her hands. “Where in the world did you get these?”

“I didn’t break the vase, I didn’t! It was that fat man over there.” Kay-D pointed into the corner of the room. The man in question, who was relatively large though that did not warrant such abuse, turned and glared in Rose and Armitage’s direction, blaming them for the young woman’s foil of tongue.

“You broke something?” Rose sighed, starting to rise to her feet. “Where? We need to clean it up.”

“No, no!” Armitage beat her to it, rising and giving Rose a soft smile. “I will take care of it. I know where…” He broke off and cleared his throat, his ears pink.

“Where all the supplies are?” Rose finished for him endearingly.

“That’s it.” Hux agreed, then smiled down at Kaydel. “Don’t worry about the vase. If it’s the one in the drawing room, I always hated that one. You did me a favor.”

Rose watched them walk away, her eyes full of soft warmth. When she could no longer see them, she raised her neglected glass of wine and drank deeply, suddenly quite warm and thirsty, when she spied Rey across the room coming out of the ballroom, walking away from Ben Solo. Rose quirked her eyebrow in curiosity at this, but the visage of her sister was blocked from her sight as a gentleman loomed up before her.

“Good evening, Miss Tico.” The gentleman bowed low before her, fiddling with the hem of his high-waisted suit jacket. “How are you faring this evening?”

Rose looked up into the familiar face of one of the young bachelors in the area. He was not fabulously wealthy nor was he very handsome, so no one considered him a great catch. Rose had always been kind to him, however, as she was kind to everyone. Unfortunately, this meant that he had always been a little overeager to be close to her, misreading her kindness as interest.

“Good evening, Mr. Klaud.” Rose smiled kindly up at him, taking a long drink from her glass of wine.

“It is… good. Isn’t it?” Mr. Klaud uttered nervously, tearing at the hem of his jacket so hard Rose was afraid the buttons would pop off any second now.

“Yes.” Rose agreed, staring at him with a politely sublime smile.

Mr. Klaud stared at her with enormously round, bulbous eyes, breathing in deep and rasping out “Would you… would you like to dance?”

Rose forced herself to breathe evenly, glancing around the room at all of the guests around her, quelling to find their eyes on the pair of them, some of them whispering quietly and fervently to their friends over their drinks, obviously watching, intent to see what she would do. Rose did not want Armitage to come back and find her missing, no less dancing with another gentleman, but etiquette was demanding. Gentlemen were supposed to understand when a lady was preoccupied with another man’s affections, as ladies who too often refused dances with partners who asked were expected not to dance with any other gentlemen for the remainder of the ball, to keep things civil and clean. She decided a lie was the better choice of any of the options, if she were to enjoy the evening at all.

“I apologize, Mr. Klaud, but I have agreed to dance the next with Mr. Hux.”

“No you haven’t.” Mr. Klaud insisted bleerily. “I just saw him with a broom near the library.”

Rose stiffened as someone nearby barely concealed a laugh. She downed the rest of the wine, then, her head spinning lightly, and rose to her feet, deciding after all that honesty was the best policy.

“I may not be dancing with Mr. Hux the next round, but he is the only gentleman I will be dancing with this evening. Goodnight, Mr. Klaud.”

With that, she turned from the table and moved away from him and the crowd of snickering onlookers, knowing full well she had just given all of them plenty to gossip about. Tomorrow the town would be talking of how Rose was pining after Mr. Hux, chasing him down and clinging to him the whole evening in the hopes to land herself a wealthy man. Rose didn’t give a single care that he was wealthy, and was quite sure that if she ever got her hands on his money or his heart, she would be spending it on much nobler things than ridiculous balls and expensive vases (except for this ball, which Rose adored he had thrown just to romance her).

She made her way to the library, finding a most intriguing sight upon rounding the corner into the little alcove hallway. Not only was Hux sweeping the floor, but he had a little apron tied around his waist, his jacket was discarded who knew where, and his sleeves were rolled up, revealing the flexing tendons and well-toned muscle of his forearm. Rose stopped in place and admired him for a long moment, appreciating how he carefully crouched down, avoiding touching the floor with his knee, and swept large chunks of glass into the dustpan.

She jumped when someone’s arms went around her waist and a soft voice whispered in her ear, “Are we ready to leave yet?”

Revealed to find it was only Rey, Rose shook her head and leaned against her sisters strong form, gesturing down the hallway ahead where Hux worked like a mad mastermind, pulling out a smaller brush from his back pocket and leaning down to squint into the fine lines of the marble, making sure to brush each and every last speck of glass from the floor.

“Look at him,” Rose breathed, noting that the most adorable part of all of this was that he was so absorbed in his work that he had not noticed them standing there at all. “It’s just so…,”

“Weird?” Rey offered, frowning as she observed Hux spin in place, his bottom swaying over his crouched ankles, small but rounded in his pants which had pulled tight from his position on the ground.

“No,” Rose laughed. “It’s sweet.”

“Have you told him you love him yet?”

Rose burned within, her lungs heaving to catch an extra breath of air at the accusation. “No.”

“What are you waiting for?”

“The right moment…”

“The right moment may never come.” Rey mentioned, nodding in Hux’s direction. “How about now?”

“I feel he should say it first.” Rose murmured, shaking her head. “I’m not afraid, I just… I feel I am not the one who will be scared off. If I say it too soon, this magic could end abruptly for me and I don’t want to lose it just yet.”

“Or he could ask you to marry him.”

“Don’t give me hope.” Rose breathed.

At that moment, Hux turned, satisfied with the job he had done, and poured all of the glass remains into a wooden bucket. He rose to his full height and stepped forward, freezing as he spotted the two girls at the end of the hall. Rey smirked at him as his ears turned pink, then his cheeks, and she gave him a little wave as she left the two of them alone again, off to find something to do to entertain herself.

Rose stepped forward and took the bucket from him, smiling up at him with shining adoration in her gaze. “I’ll help you. Show me where you toss your rubbish?”

Hux swallowed and glanced down at his apron, moving to untie it, but Rose grabbed his hand and leaned in to place her head on his shoulder.

“Leave it.” She whispered. “I like it.”

Hux tenderly wrapped his arm around her shoulders and led her off into the quiet and dark area of the house, staying long enough for many at the party to notice their absence.

Rey felt like she was about to jump out of her skin. She loved Rose, she wanted Rose to be happy, but she couldn’t stay here any longer. Every room she left and re-entered, Ben Solo seemed to be there, looming in a dark corner like some monster from a book, like Hades himself.

The mental comparison she had made gave her pause, and before she could help herself, she wondered who he would pick as his Persephone. A dark, hungry part of her began to speak up, but Rey swallowed it back down, eager to find a place in this damn party that did not remind her of that horrible devil of a man.

She stepped outside through the French doors at the back of the house, finding herself on the terrace with Luke, Leia, and many other meandering guests. The terrace led to many different parts of the house, which Rey had not seen on her first stay at Netherfield, and further down the right of it, more French doors opened into a music hall, in which a lady played piano. Rey recognized the lilting notes as Jannah’s style almost immediately, and she figured that out here, surrounded by icons of her family, that she could put the horrible Ben Solo out of mind. She crossed the terrace and settled herself beside Leia, folding her hands and half-listening to their conversation.

“Do you believe they will marry soon?” An older lady was crooning to Leia.

“Oh, when they marry, you will have to have it here, outside on the terrace! In June! Oh, how lovely.” Another lady crooned.

Luke took a very long drink from his bourbon.

“He hasn’t asked her yet.” Leia admonished lightly, but it would do no good. The ladies around them had taken Rose’s eventual marriage to Hux as a sign, a given, a gift from God himself.

“When will we be leaving?” Rey asked Leia as quietly as she can, while the ladies around them were discussing floral arrangements.

Leia shrugged, glancing over at Luke to make sure he was still doing okay, despite being involved in one of his least favorite things in his old age: social gatherings.

“We’re here until Rose wants us to leave. We’re her ride home.”

Rey sighed heavily and resigned herself to a very long night of patient waiting. She was at least thankful that she never ran into Ben Solo again, though she did catch his eyes from across the room as they, six hours later, at two in the morning, finally exited Netherfield and all piled into their carriage. He looked at her like no one ever had before, with curiosity, perhaps longing, though Rey could discern none of this. She knew only that every time his eyes were on her something deep within her felt sated, while the rest of her struggled not to scream at him. On the ride home, Rey doted on Rose, pulling her head onto her shoulder to let her sleep, noting that Rose’s hair was in an entirely different bun than the one Rey had given her hours before, and her lips were swollen and pink. Rey thought she was proud of her little hussy of a sister, but she’d never been more envious, either.

“I can’t wait for the wedding.” Jannah sighed into her yawn, smiling at Rey and Rose across the carriage.

“Did he ask her?!” Kaydel interjected. “He’s kind of weird.”

“No, he didn’t ask her.” Luke barked. “Go to sleep. It’s bloody 2 am.”

Everyone laughed, the merry sound drifting off into the night.

ꕥ

“Armitage, you cannot be serious.” Millicent snipped at him as she watched Skywalker’s carriage driving away down the lane through her bedroom window. They’d been one of the last families to go, and Millicent knew why, if her brother’s hair had any indication. For all his life he’d been obsessed with order, even as a small child. Each block had to be perfect and in it’s perfect place, each button, each string, each pea on his plate, but his hair was the object that suffered the most. He’d once spent five hours trying to get it right, rewetting it and shaping it and combing it, trimming with a razor down to the last half centimeter. But now, as he lay haphazardly draped on the sofa in the center of her large room, his hair was standing on all ends, voluminous and puffy, with one ragged strand laying on his forehead. And he didn’t even care.

“What now, Millicent?” Armitage groaned, an arm over his eyes. “I only came up here to check on you as I didn’t see you at the party at all. I don’t want a lecture.”

Millicent seethed, then glanced to the doorway as Ben stalked past it.

“Mr. Solo!” She shouted. It took a few moments, but Ben returned, his broad frame swallowing the doorway as he stepped into the room. “Tell my brother he is acting a fool.”

Mr. Solo gave her a disheartening look, but she steeled herself beneath it. So what if Ben Solo didn’t want her, so what if he wanted the peasant scavenger rat more than her. She would not stand by and let her family’s reputation go to the dogs.

“Tell him.” She all but snarled.

Ben approached the sofa and smacked Hux on the knee, gesturing for him to sit up. Hux did so with a groan, unwillingly, but as Ben sank onto the sofa beside him, he gave him his undivided and trusting attention.

“I believe Millicent may be on to something.” Ben sighed heavily. Hux’s face contorted with mild fury but Ben held up a hand. “You were with her the whole night, lost in her beauty, so you didn’t hear what happened at the party.”

Hux glanced between Millicent and back to Ben, his eyes showing mild alarm. “What happened?”

“Little miss Tico was telling everyone who would listen that she couldn’t wait to be your wife.” Millicent sniffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

Armitage stared at her, unable to deny the flip in his chest and the momentary surge of glee. But then it faltered, as he realized their implications.

“To… to other guests? Not just… her family?”

“Yes.” Ben and Millicent stated at the same time, one of them calmer and cooler than the other.

“No,” Armitage cut in angrily, nostrils flaring, as he rose to his feet and stamped across the floor, falling into a pacing rhythm. “Rose is not that sort of woman. She wouldn’t be seeking me for my money.” He said the last part with a hilarious laugh, stopping and gesturing toward them as if willing them to see the truth.

“A humble woman is not a braggart.” Ben merely stated coldly, though his gaze was soft as it took in the slowly crumbling visage of his best friend.

“And a filthy orphan such as she wouldn’t marry a wealthy man for love.” Millicent stated cruelly, glaring with full force at her brother.

Armitage felt a hole widening within him, shaking his head slowly as he backed away a step or two, raising a hand to grip his hair. He was too tired for this conversation, too joyful, coming down off a high of having Rose in his arms and on his tongue only half an hour prior. He could still taste her, smell her, if he closed his eyes and focused, and they were trying to convince him that it was all a lie.

“You’re wrong. She has never once talked of money. She’s never even brought up the idea of marriage!” Armitage gestured wildly, taking up to pacing again.

“Did she speak of love?” Ben asked quietly. Hux froze mid-step.

“Love?”

“Did she ever say that she loved you?”

Hux’s posture deflated. “No.”

“Not once?”

“No.” Hux repeated.

Millicent smiled self-satisfactorily, striding across the room to take her brothers hand in hers. “Then why are we still in this god-forsaken countryside?”

Armitage looked down at her, wondering what sister would smile at the broken-hearted realizations of her brother. Yet she’d always been a little cruel, a little unable to see past her own desires.

“You bought this house because of its rumored beauty. It is beautiful, yes, but we decided not long ago that these country people are not to our taste. We stayed because you insisted, because you said you wanted to be near Rose.” She whispered painfully.

Hux pulled away from her, staggering to Millicent’s bed and falling onto the end of it, leaning forward on his arms and staring dejectedly at the floor.

“You could be wrong.” He countered weakly, but he did not sound like he believed it.

Ben examined Armitage with knowing eyes, a strange, lonely sensation overcoming him. He would do anything for Hux, though once upon a time in his life that was not true. However, he was not being entirely honest with himself, and part of his insistence now that Hux take care where Rose was concerned was because he was telling himself the same thing about her sister. Ben had realized two things this evening when he had danced with Rey Johnson: 1 – that he was extremely attracted to her in ways he had never been with another and 2 – that she was dangerous for him. The further he and his friend got away from these simple yet exquisitely beautiful country girls, the better.

“Armitage, I wouldn’t lie to you.” Ben played the best friend card, the ‘remember when I saved your life because you saved mine?’ card.

Hux sank back into the mattress, staring up at the ceiling with stinging eyes. He waited a very long moment before speaking, thinking of Rose and her smiles, her sweetness, her small acts of bravery, how helpful and endearing and supportive she was. He thought of her agony as she’d revealed the parts about her past that she was terrified of, terrified that he would read into them and misjudge her. How could he have read each and every one of those situations wrong? How could she really not love him? How could she tell all those people those things? Not for the first time in his life, Armitage Hux felt immensely betrayed.

“Alright.” He whispered, one lone tear escaping from the corner of his eye and dropping down onto the bedspread. “Okay. Let’s go back to London.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/britinthewoods)! Thank you so much for reading! If you love it, then please leave a comment! ;)


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rose is heartbroken, Amilyn shares a surprise, and everyone goes their separate ways

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: There is a non-explicit reference to underage prostitution in this chapter. It's brief and nothing actually happens, but as this could be a potential trigger, I wanted to give fair enough warning. 
> 
> This chapter is purely to set up the rest of the story. If you're a fan of P&P, you likely know what's coming next. And I hope you, like me, can hardly wait!!! 
> 
> Enjoy! :)

It was always nice when the weather matched one’s emotions. Rose thought this to herself as she sat on a garden chair in the back of the house on the veranda, under a covered roof, watching the rain pour down onto the world. She wondered briefly if it was the universe crying for her, as her eyes were painfully dry. She wanted to cry, she really did, but found herself entirely empty and void, a vast chasm of nothingness. Shivering in the cold, she sat rigid and still on the metal chair, eyes glassy and staring into nowhere, dressed only in a pale yellow gown and the black suit jacket of a certain gentleman. The jacket barely smelled like him anymore, and at night, after Rey fell asleep, Rose would tiptoe to the wardrobe and pull it out, crushing it in her arms and burrow her face into it as she tried, fitfully, to fall asleep. She knew it was unhealthy to keep it. Rey had tried to throw it out, but Rose had refused. She didn’t care if it was unhealthy. The jacket was the only thing she had to remember him by, the only thing that proved her short time loving Armitage Hux was not merely a dream within a dream.

Sighing softly, turning her gaze back down at the letter laying open in her hands, she read it once again, seeking the pain and heartbreak of the words on the page before her, as she had a hundred times already, hoping, praying that the words would read differently this time.

_Dearest Rose_ , it read. _Dearest Rose._ As if he had actually loved her.

Rose read on.

_I write to inform you that I return to London tomorrow. Millicent is eager to get back to her friends there; she does miss them dearly. As you and I have become good friends, I thought it would be prudent to let you know. This is not goodbye forever. I am not selling Netherfield. However, I do believe it may be quite a while before we see one another again. My dearest hope and wish is for you to be well. Until we meet again._

_Yours truly,_

_Armitage Hux_

Rose stared at his closing line, rationalizing with herself. _Yours truly_ was something a friend said to another. It didn’t mean that he loved her and was trying to hide it. It didn’t mean that he was feeling just as sorrowful as she to be parted from her. She stared at his signature, reading it over and over, knowing that the tight, looping curvature of each and every perfect letter was so like him, control-freak that he was. She wondered how long it had taken him to write this letter, if he’d tossed many papers away as he painstakingly tried to make each single loop and line on the page perfect. They were perfect, neat, in immaculate rows. Her fingertips brushed over the page as her heart ached, throbbing mercilessly within in her chest. Yet her eyes remained dry.

She folded the letter up once more, tucking it into the pocket of Armitage’s jacket, and strode out into the rain, immediately becoming drenched. She didn’t care. She didn’t care that it reminded her of the first time she’d gone to Netherfield and had to travel in the rain, becoming so ill she had to stay at his house. She didn’t care that the cold, wet state of her clothing reminded her of how he’d doted on her, brushing her forehead to check her temperature, hovering always nearby to bring her water, or ice, or soup, or fresh linens. She trudged through the mud of the fields behind the house, making her way toward the barn, shivering all over and thankful to at least feel something, even if it was just cold.

Rey was bent over her work bench, tongue in her teeth, eyes narrowed on the open back of a pocket watch, as she turned an itty bitty screw into place, whispering under her breath for the cog to “please stay still, please stay still, please stay still”. As the screw turned finally deep enough to keep the cog in place, she pulled her left hand back and tightened it in, reaching for the back of the pocket watch to snap it back on. Just as she was doing so, the barn door creaked open behind her and she turned, a chill running down her spine as she spotted, out of the corner of her eye, what appeared to be a ghost. But it was Rose.

As Rey realized this, she hopped up from the work bench and ran to her sister, taking her pale hands in hers and guiding her into the warmth of the barn, noting her flesh covered in goosebumps, her extreme pallor, and her trembling. Rose smiled at her but it did not meet her eyes. In fact, it was the emptiest smile Rey had ever seen on the young woman.

“What are you doing? Why did you go out in this storm? You’re going to become ill again.” Rey chastised her, guiding her toward the bench. As Rose sat down, Rey climbed up to the loft and snatched the blanket, tossing it down to the bottom floor and climbing back down. She took the blanket to Rose and wrapped her up in it, kneeling beside her and leaning on her knee.

“Rose,” Rey began carefully, rubbing her sister’s arm through the blanket. “Say something. You’re scaring me.”

Rose glanced at Rey, shaking her head slowly, then down at her knees again, breathing in deeply to release a sigh. “Don’t be scared. I’m just… just cold, is all.”

“Why are you wearing that damned jacket again?”

Rose shrugged. “Because I… I loved him. Can I not mourn my own idiocy?”

Rey winced, shaking her head. “You are not an idiot. He loves you.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Rose frowned pitifully, thinking of the letter in her pocket. “He stated clearly in his letter that we are good friends, not more.”

“That’s a lie.” Rey said emphatically. “Millicent Hux is clearly threatened by you and she has removed her brother from the threat. Armitage loves you, Rose, do not give up.”

Rose did not look like she believed it. She turned toward the work bench and touched a pale finger to the pocket watch. “Is this the one for Jannah? It’s beautiful.”

“Armitage loves you.” Rey stated flatly, rising to sit beside Rose on the bench. “Do not change the subject because you’re terrified you actually have to fight for something.”

Rose glanced at Rey with a sharp turn of her head, eyebrows narrowed slightly. A little bit of color came back momentarily to her cheeks.

“And how am I supposed to fight? What do I do? Follow him to London? Write him annoyingly desperate letters, begging him to come back?” She growled.

Rey smiled softly. It was the first real glimpse of Rose she’d seen in days. 

“Yes.”

Rose looked up into Rey’s eyes, swallowing down the fear that threatened to scramble up her throat. “I can’t.”

“You can.” Rey took her hands in hers, raised them to her mouth and kissed them. “You are brave and strong and so worth it. Try. Go to London. If he does not take you back, then damn him to hell forever.”

Rose did not seem convinced, biting her cheek and turning away from Rey to stare at the wooden wall of the barn.

“I just don’t know, Rey. I don’t know.”

Rey was the one to change the subject that time and showed Rose what she had been working on: the pocket-watch for Jannah and the corgi wagon for Kaydel and Bee Bee. It distracted Rose enough from her sorrow to momentarily forget her feelings, and Rey was able to convince her to go back to the house. They went together, and Rey personally filled a bathtub for her with hot water from the kitchens. Rose stayed in it until the water was cold, which sort of defeated the purpose, but at least she was able to change into dry clothes when she got out, and that horrible gentleman’s coat couldn’t be worn for a while because it had been soaked. Even so, Rose insisted on allowing it to dry in their room and strung it up in front of the open window.

When Rose was satisfied it would dry well there, Rey made her come down to dinner (Rose had been skipping a few meals) with the family. Everyone smiled and welcomed her as she joined them in the dining room, their smiles partially false and their voices a little too cheerful. The entire Skywalker household was walking on eggshells around Rose, terrified they would make things worse for the poor, heartbroken girl.

Rey pulled her seat out for her and scooped it in as Rose sat, then took her place beside her, inhaling the rich smell of dinner. “Mmm, sheppard’s pie tonight.” She commented.

Leia smiled and grabbed Rose’s plate, doling her out a serving, whacking the spoon a little on the plate to make the stuck mashed potatoes come loose. “Of course. Meat, potatoes, gravy… they’re the best things to eat. They cure all sorts of sorrows.”

Rose did not look convinced that the mush now set before her would cure her sorrows, but she gave Leia a small smile anyway. “Thank you, Leia.”

“You’re welcome, dear.”

“Rose, I made this for you today.” Jannah stated across the table, extending something toward her. Rose glanced at it, then smiled a little wider, taking the object from Jannah. It was a small pink cushion, covered in sloppy embroidery of little puffins, Rose’s favorite bird. “It’s a pin cushion, to keep all your needles in one place when sewing.”

“Thank you, Jannah.” Rose stated warmly, giving her a much more normal smile. “I love the puffins.”

Rey sighed deeply and grabbed herself a helping of food, feeling for the first time in days that there was hope for a normal Rose again in the future.

The table fell silent as everyone began to eat. Kaydel built a tower out of her mashed potatoes, placing peas carefully in a row to decorate the top. Amilyn ate quietly, her eyes down on her plate. Jannah was pulling a piece of bread into pieces and mopping up gravy. Luke was chugging down his ale. Leia was watching Rose push her food around on her plate.

After a moment, Amilyn cleared her throat, resting her fork down gently on the side of her plate. “I have some news to share with you all.”

Everyone turned toward her, waiting, their cutlery distended in mid-air. Amilyn was the oldest, but she generally kept to herself. It wasn’t often that she was the one with “news”.

“So…” She began, resting her hands in her lap and turning slowly to examine the face of each of her family members at the table. “I have received an offer of marriage.”

“What?!” almost everyone exclaimed at the table. Only Kaydel didn’t seem to care, quickly resuming building her pea and mashed tater tower.

“Who?”

“Why are we just now hearing of this gentleman?”

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Amilyn.” Leia was the last to speak, a note of concern in her voice. Amilyn glanced at her and smiled softly, sheepishly, then reached into her pocket beneath the table and pulled out a letter.

“Mr. Chewbacca and I have been corresponding.”

“Oh, gods on Mount Olympus.” Jannah exclaimed, laughing incredulously. “You’re going to marry him?!”

Rey felt a deep relief at this news, having taken note how enamored Amilyn had been of him when he had visited, how insulted she’d been that he’d proposed to Rey. Even Leia seemed pleased, relaxing immediately when she heard who the secret gentleman was.

“He is very sweet.” Amilyn sniffed haughtily, tossing Jannah a filthy look, returning the letter to her pocket. “I was going to allow you to read the letter, but if you’re going to act like that.”

“Give me the letter.” Leia held out her hand and Amilyn acquiesced, fishing it out and handing it over to her with a smile.

“The wedding is in four days. I’m sorry it was so last minute that I didn’t tell you until now. But I wasn’t sure it was going to happen.”

Leia’s eyes skimmed over the letter rapidly, everyone at the table watching her with bated breath, except for Kay-D, who found the talk of marriage and weddings quite boring. “How could you plan this without me?” Leia frowned sadly, but her eyes were bright with joy. “Oh, Amilyn. I am very happy for you.”

Having read the letter, Leia folded it up and handed it back to Amilyn, rising to hug her from behind, kissing the top of her head. “I hope you will be very happy with him.”

“I plan to.” Amilyn smiled, giving Rey a strained glance. “I’m sorry, Rey…”

Rey blinked at Amilyn, then cleared her throat, taking a sip of wine to dispel the laugh that threatened to erupt. “Amilyn, you both suit one another very well. Far better than me.”

“Where is the wedding being held?” Jannah inquired.

“At the chapel in Kent, where he lives.” Amilyn informed them. “You are all invited, of course. And I should hope that-,”

Amilyn cut off at the rather abrupt sound of a gasping sob, followed by subtle hiccups and crying. Everyone at the table turned to find Rose burying her face in her hands, tears seeping slightly from between her fingertips, and she curled in toward the table.

“I’m so sorry-,” Rose hiccupped through gasps for air. “I’m so sorry, Amilyn. I really don’t know what’s come over me. I am so … so happy for you!”

Amilyn looked shell-shocked. Rey wrapped her arm around Rose’s shoulder, rubbing her arm and whispering for her to get ahold of herself.

“Way to go, Ami.” Jannah murmured. “Your engagement couldn’t have come at a worse time.”

“She… she should be happy for me, regardless-,”

“I am!” Rose raised her face, fat tears rolling down her reddened cheeks, giving Amilyn a pleading look. “You are going to make a beautiful bride. I’m so sorry.”

With that, Rose stood and fled from the room, leaving everyone to stare at one another in awkward silence. Leia placed her hands on Amilyn’s shoulders and rubbed them softly.

“Do not take it personally, Amilyn. Rose has had a very hard time of things. We all thought that she’d get to marry Mr. Hux. But she doesn’t have a jealous bone in her body. It’s likely just the sting of memory.” She explained soothingly. Amilyn nodded and frowned over in Rey’s direction.

“You… you should go check on her. No one else is likely to have any luck.” Amilyn murmured to Rey, who nodded and rose slowly from the table.

As she turned to go, Rey paused and looked back, smiling softly at her older sister. “Congratulations, Ami. Truly.”

ꕥ

It took a very long time for Rose to fall asleep. Rey lay behind her, rubbing her back in soft circles like she and Finn used to do for one another as children, listening to her babble on about how horrible she felt that she’d cried like that, that she couldn’t be supportive. Eventually, tired of hearing Rose beat herself up for feeling sad, Rey told her that it was perfectly acceptable to be sad about this, and that Amilyn understood, and she should just give it up. But something had broken in Rose, and she cried herself to sleep, taking two full and miserable hours to do so. Rey stayed awake through all of it, unable to sleep when her beloved sister was in so much pain, and she lay awake long after Rose had fallen into slumber.

The next morning, however, Rose was a different person. She wasn’t necessarily back to normal, but her cheeks had more color to them, she had put Armitage’s coat away in the wardrobe, and she even ate breakfast, having an egg and a few bites of toast. She seemed determined to keep it all together for Amilyn’s sake, as the house now became a bustle of activity, everyone packing their best gowns and Leia helping Amilyn alter her bridal wear. Rey watched her carefully, ready to help her put the pieces back together again if needed, but Rose seemed stronger, and held herself together long enough for the Skywalker group to hit the road.

They traveled in Luke’s carriage plus one borrowed one from a neighbor who had three. Amilyn rode with Luke and Leia, as Leia had insisted, seeing that she would never be living at home like she had before, and Rose, Kaydel, Rey, and Jannah took the borrowed carriage. Their belongings piled up on the backs of the carriage, they left Longbourn two days after Amilyn’s announcement. Before they left, Rey sent Finn a brief letter telling him of the plan, and alerted all the staff at their home that they were to forward any letters addressed to her at Mr. Chewbacca’s home in Kent.

Upon arrival, most of the family stayed at the local inn, while only Amilyn and Leia stayed with Mr. Chewbacca, Leia because she did not want to miss a single moment, and also as a chaperone to keep any question of tainted virtue off of anyone’s lips.

The day of the wedding arrived faster than anyone could hope. Amilyn and Mr. Chewbacca stood hold hands together at the alter in the chapel, gazing at one another with what appeared to be friendly understanding. It became apparent to Rey, then, that Amilyn didn’t really love Mr. Chewbacca, but more her marriage to him was a tactical decision, one that was actually quite brilliant. Mr. Chewbacca was not filthy rich, but he had connections and a ship and he could offer Amilyn a lot, especially in the way of experiences for her writing. Rey admired her sister then in a way she never had, that Amilyn was able to turn aside any sort of haughty position and see marriage for what it was in today’s society: an economic transaction. The minister declared them man and wife, they pecked one another gently on the lips, then everyone followed them from the chapel into the bright sunlight outside.

“Please, everyone, join us at our home for a celebratory feast.” Amilyn said to them as Mr. Chewbacca helped her up the stairs into their carriage, decorated with white ribbon and daisies in celebration for the lovely occasion. Their carriage rolled away, leaving the family waving after them.

Leia was tearing up, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief. Kaydel was kicking at a clump of grass in the ground, asking loudly and impatiently “what now?”. Jannah looped her arm with Leia’s and leaned into her, her own eyes misty with tears, and Rey took Rose’s hand, examining her face for any pain.

Rose smiled at her. “So… one down.”

“Three to go.” Rey smiled back.

“You’re right. Kaydel is too young to marry.”

“I meant me!” Rey laughed, nudging into Rose’s shoulder.

“I think I may join you in spinsterhood.” Rose mumbled softly, her words lancing through Rey’s heart.

“Come, girls.” Luke called, gesturing toward their carriage. “Back to the inn to change. Dinner is in an hour.”

They all went back to the inn and readied for dinner, then made their way to Amilyn’s new home. The carriage rattled down a well kempt gravel road, and as it turned a corner, an enormous house swam into view, one made of brick and large cuts of marble, with ivy growing up the sides, and at least ten chimney’s sticking out of the top. The house itself was far larger than Netherfield, even. None of the girls had seen one quite like it.

“Amilyn is going to live there?” Jannah inquired with a bit of envy, her jaw dropping.

“No, that is Rosings Park. My son’s godmother lives there, as does his fiancée.” Leia explained quietly.

Rey’s head turned sharply in Leia’s direction, a twinge of nausea chewing away at her from within at this news. “Ben is engaged?”

“Mr. Solo,” Luke uttered firmly, raising an eyebrow at Rey in question of her using his nephew’s first name. “has been engaged to Miss Kira Palpatine for quite some time now.”

“Since he was eight.” Leia whispered softly, examining the house as they passed it by in the falling night.

“Well, Miss Palpatine sounds like quite the lucky girl.” Rey snorted softly, taking the opportunity to mock the moment, covering for the queer sickness she was suddenly feeling inside. “If she lives in a house like that, then I’m sure they deserve one another.”

“This,” Leia pointed out the window. “This is Amilyn’s new home.”

The carriage pulled up in front of a very small, but quaint, cottage. There were only three chimneys in this one, but the shingled roof was darling in how it overlapped the shuttered windows, and off to the right of the house was one of the most beautiful gardens Rey had ever seen, fitting for someone such as Mr. Chewbacca, who specialized in plants.

The family all exited the carriage and went into the house, warmly welcomed by the smell of good food and a smiling hostess. Amilyn guided them all through the small hallway into the only slightly bigger dining room and they all went to their places as directed by Amilyn, Mr. Chewbacca seated at the head of the table and Luke at the foot. Dinner was a happy affair in which everyone laughed and share stories about Amilyn, commenting on the cheerful state of the cottage, how beautiful Amilyn’s dress had been, what their plans for the future were. They did not finish eating and conversing until well in the night, and when Luke had had enough and wanted to go to sleep, everyone moved reluctantly from the table toward the door to leave.

As Leia kissed Amilyn’s cheeks and wished her farewell, Rey lingered back at the table with Mr. Chewbacca, giving him a smile and reaching out to take his hand, squeezing it softly.

“Welcome to the family. I suppose I should call you my brother-in-law, now.” Rey uttered in a friendly tone.

“Yes, I am, aren’t I?” Mr. Chewbacca laughed, his whole head and shoulders seeming to shake with the motion. “All is right with the world now.”

Rey flushed slightly, understanding his allusion to his failed proposal to her not even a month ago.

“Well, Amilyn is quite suited for you.”

“She is.” Mr. Chewbacca smiled, watching his new, young wife say goodbye to her loved ones. “Though, I wanted to ask you. She and I were discussing earlier. She wondered if you would stay behind with us for a while.”

“She did?” Rey’s eyes rounded in surprise. She loved Amilyn, and knew Amilyn loved her, but they had never been very close. She’d always been closer with Jannah. “Why didn’t she ask me?”

“She was going to, but she thought it would be better coming from me. She didn’t want to make the others jealous. She admires you, and she told me she would much prefer having someone from home stay behind. Leia can not, she is busy with charity, Luke has his work, Kaydel is too young, Rose is… well she said Rose is too sad, and Jannah would be bored out of her mind. She wanted to ask you.”

Rey frowned thoughtfully, glancing back at Amilyn at the doorway. “Well, when you put it that way…”

“It would only be until she feels comfortable here.” Mr. Chewbacca repeated. “Until she gets used to life away from home.”

“I’ll have to talk to Rose.” Rey’s frown deepened. “But I suppose I could stay.”

“Wonderful!” Mr. Chewbacca exclaimed, clapping Rey on the shoulder. She shook under the weight of his hand, laughed nervously, then bobbed out of his grip.

“Yes, it’s great.” She murmured softly.

That night at the inn, Rose prepared for bed in the corner of the room, folding her dresses back into her suitcase and sliding into her night shift. Rey watched her as she worked, thinking of Mr. Chewbacca’s and Amilyn’s invitation to stay with them for a while. She figured it would be a nice diversion from the typical routine, and she had already told Finn how and where to contact her. The only thing keeping her from doing so was the worry for her sister. But Rey wondered if there was a way she could take care of her sister, even from afar.

Rose buttoned her night shift and made her way to the bed, flopping down beside Rey, who had already readied for bed, giving her a warm smile.

“Amilyn was a beautiful bride.”

“She was.” Rey responded quietly.

“I’m happy for her.” Rose turned to stare at the ceiling.

“Rose…”

“Mm?”

Rey leaned up on her elbow and peered at her sister. “I want you to fight for him.”

“What?” Rose turned to look at Rey, her eyes betraying her hurt as they shone with unshed tears beginning to form.

“Love is rare.” Rey began, lowering her gaze from Rose’s to stare at the sheets, swallowing a lump in her throat. “You know a bit about my past. But I haven’t told you everything.”

Rose examined Rey’s face, steeling herself for a painful conversation. She knew Rey’s past was full of demons. What she didn’t know was what that had to do with Hux.

“My mother… she was the consort of a pimp. She spent all of his money, which he forced her to earn back with her body. She became obsessed with becoming his wife, sure that if he were to marry her, she’d never have to work for a living again. But he was a bad man.” Rey paused, swallowing her terror, taking Rose’s offered hand and squeezing it softly. “He always hated me. So he told my mother if she would get rid of me… then he would marry her.”

Rose knew the rest of the story, as unfortunate as it was. Rey’s parents sold her to a brothel for children, the most despicable of places, and Rey never saw them again. She had managed to escape before she could be abused in that way, and lived in the streets after that with Finn. She knew that the whole story was still a nightmare that haunted Rey, and she pressed her palm against Rey’s cheek, stroking under her eye with her thumb.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because-,” Rey choked, her own eyes welling with tears now. “I am afraid that I will be her. I am afraid to love a man, afraid that loving a man will distort my will and my morality. I am afraid of giving too much of my power to someone else. But you have never been afraid. You had loving parents, before they died. They had a wonderful example for you. And I- I’ve always looked up to your bravery. I need you to fight.”

“Rey…” Rose frowned deeply, a tear sliding down her cheek. “Rey, please.”

“No, listen.” Rey shook her head, smiling through her agony at her sister. “You are a beacon of sunshine and hope, and I **know** Armitage loves you. I want you to go to London, stay with our Aunt and Uncle, let it be known that you are there, and I am certain he will come for you.”

“I can’t.” Rose whispered.

“You can.” Rey countered, squeezing her hand again. “At least try. For me?”

Rose fell silent, examining Rey’s face, trying to think of any reason to turn Rey down and change this outrageous plan. Going to London to chase after Hux seemed the silliest thing to do, but maybe Rey was right.

“How do I do that?”

“Be yourself.” Rey tucked a loose strand of Rose’s hair behind her ear. “Go to parties, be happy, people will talk, he’ll hear of you, maybe even run into you at one. And then make him see what he’s missing out on.”

Rose smiled softly, nestling in closer to Rey. “Would you come with me?”

“No,” Rey whispered. “No, Rose. You need to do this on your own. I believe my presence would only worsen it, anyway. Millicent hates me.”

“She does.” Rose laughed her real, true, genuine laugh for the first time in forever, and Rey smiled happily at the sound.

“I will write you. I’m going to stay with Amilyn for a while.”

“Oh?” Rose raised a brow. “She… invited you to?”

“Mr. Chewbacca said as much. She’s never really needed me as a sister, but maybe now is the time.”

“You’re the best sister of all of us.” Rose murmured sleepily.

“I thought that was you.”

“No,” Rose yawned, giving Rey a stern look. “It’s most definitely you.”

ꕥ

The next day Amilyn came to the inn to wish her family goodbye. Rose had told Luke and Leia that morning of her intentions to go to London and they, thinking that a good enough idea, had given her leave to take their carriage to Uncle Artoo and Aunt Threepio’s house. They would take the borrowed carriage back home and Rey would remain here, with Amilyn. As everyone bid their farewells, kisses exchanged, hugs and slight tears, Rey saved Rose for last, approaching her sister with a violent squeeze of a hug, so hard that Rose felt her guts might burst.

“Rey, you’re too strong.” She wheezed, and Rey kissed her cheek before releasing her.

“I promise you that I will write everyday.” Rey said. “If you will write back every day.”

“I promise.” Rose stated, her deep brown eyes a little nervous.

“Be brave. Go tell him you love him.”

“I’ll try.” Rose sighed, and stepped into her carriage.

Both of the carriages left at the same time, but they departed in different directions. Amilyn and Rey stood in front of the inn, waving goodbye to their family members, and Rey felt a deep well of sorrow within her heart. Time was changing her family. Nothing was going to be the same ever again.

“Do you have your suitcase?” Amilyn inquired softly, turning to face Rey.

“I do.” Rey smiled and lifted it in one hand.

“Great. Let’s go then.”

They walked from the inn to Amilyn’s house. It only took them two hours to do so, and Rey was thankful for the fresh air around them and the wonderful, sunny weather, the cooler temperatures as fall approached. They remained silent for the majority of the time, Rey attempting to make small talk.

“This place is gorgeous. The trees are all so old and tall.” Rey stated by way of making conversation.

Amilyn nodded, glancing back over her shoulder at Rey. “It’s too bad we’ll only be here for a year.”

“Oh?” Rey was surprised to hear that she and Mr. Chewbacca were already making plans. “Why is that? Where do you plan on going?”

“The sea!” Amilyn grinned at Rey. “Mr. Chewbacca has purchased another ship and he wants to sail the world. I’m going to go with him and gain experience for my writing.”

“That sounds like fun.” Rey smiled softly, surprised at how happy Amilyn seemed.

When they arrived at Amilyn’s home, she was shown to her guest room where Ami helped her unpack her things, placing her clothing into the empty wardrobe provided for guests. They slipped into the study for tea, the sounds of birds chirping and a gentle breeze coming in through the open windows. The cottage was small, but it was oh so charming, and Rey found she rather liked it’s ambience.

“Why is it that Mr. Chewbacca lives here, of all places?” Rey inquired out of curiosity. It did not make sense to her that a man who liked to sail would live so far inland.

“Oh, that’s a great question.” Amilyn set her teacup down on the little table beside the sofa. “You know he’s a distant relative of Luke, but I didn’t know just how involved with their family he’d been in their youth. He used to sail with Han Solo, Leia’s husband, before he died. Han won this house from the mistress of Rosings Park, that large house we passed on the way here. He bequeathed it to Mr. Chewbacca in his will.”

“He won it from… from the mistress of that enormous house? Who bets a house in a card game?”

“People who have so much money they don’t need an extra house lying around.” Amilyn shrugged. “But Lady Snoke is horrible. She’s mean and cruel and is so demanding of Mr. Chewbacca. He takes care of the gardens for her at Rosings, and she pays him very little.”

Rey thought back to what she had learned the day prior: this mistress of Rosings Park, Lady Snoke, was the godmother of Ben Solo and his future mother-in-law. It made sense to Rey that he would be attached in matrimony to someone horrible, and she began to wonder if she’d be able to meet this woman in her time with her sister.

Amilyn answered that for her. “By the way, we’ve been invited to dine with Lady Snoke tomorrow evening. I’m very excited, as I’ve wondered for a long while what that house looks like from the inside.”

Rey felt a twinge of excitement, not to see a house, but for other reasons she wasn’t quite ready to admit to herself. She was curious about this Kira Palpatine, the betrothed of the lofty, arrogant, and miserably terrible Ben Solo. She was curious to see just how miserable he’d continue to be, hoping this Kira had warts and wonky teeth and feet bigger than elephant tusks. The image she conjured in her mind brought her great joy, and she imagined Ben Solo at the alter with such a woman, the sight bringing her great joy. She simply couldn’t wait for tomorrow to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/ardentlyloveyou)!
> 
> Thank you for reading! I appreciate comments. :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a dinner party is held at Rosings, Rey learns something new about Ben Solo, and Rose faces her fears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Say it with me, now: ANGST. 
> 
> I'm so sorry. This chapter... First of all, I'm too afraid to re-read the whole thing after writing it, because damn, it hurt. I swear, I would give up right now if I didn't know this was going to end happily, and I promise if you want to yell at me, I'll be okay. I deserve it! 
> 
> If I get the courage to read through it again, I may edit a little bit because I'm a picky perfectionist, but overall, here is Chapter 10 for your enjoyment (or to make you cry😅)!

Rosings Park loomed before them in the falling dusk, casting long shadows behind its grandiose appearance. The many windows of the house appeared as if to be the eyes of monstrous faces peering out at them. Ivy wrapped round and round the sides of the house, like grasping fingers digging into prey, unwilling to let go, and the chimneys stuck out of the top like white bones from a grave, pale and seeming to shine in the falling dark. Rey felt a shiver run down her spine as she examined the house, slightly disconcerted that she was going to enter. It was beautiful, to be sure, but something about it just did not appease, though she could not put a finger on the source of the feeling.

Beside her strolled her sister and her newly wed husband, arm in arm like lovers, looking quite the suitable and happy pair. Amilyn wore a soft violet gown, her hair pulled up into a tight bun, little ringlets by her cheek, and Mr. Chewbacca was dressed in his naval uniform, a large belt across his navy clad chest. They looked sweet together, and Rey felt comfortable to know that at least, despite the stodgy company of whoever waited for them inside, she’d have them to rely on for conversation.

Though, Rey wondered to herself, as they came closer to the house, about this mysterious fiancée of Mr. Ben Solo’s. From what she knew about the man, regardless of how attractive he may be, he was appallingly unattractive from within. She could not refuse the temptation to ponder the personality of whatever woman would willingly entre into a matrimonial arrangement with such a monster of a man, and her curiosity was getting the better of her.

As they approached the main entrance, a footman waited outside for them to allow them in. The doors were at least two stories tall, and Rey marveled as they swung inward, leading to the most distasteful and gaudy entryway she had ever seen in her life. The ceiling was painted with intricate designs of devils and angels waging war in heaven. She could recognize the black wings of Lucifer, the white of Michael, and the Christ himself, looking sorrowful, hands raised upward as if he could cease the fighting. The room itself was filled with ornate furniture from all over the world; not one single sense of style was obeyed, rather items from India, China, Egypt, and many other places could be found. Rey felt very much like she had stepped into a disorganized museum rather than a house.

The footman led them through the loudly clashing room into a much smaller and darker hallway, turning down several further extensive hallways before stopping at a small, black door. He pushed it open for them and gestured for them to enter, which they did, Rey holding her breath just a bit, feeling a little as if she were stepping into the belly of a beast.

“Finally, you have come.” A raggedy, old voice hacked toward them across the great expanse of the room. Rey turned toward the sound of the voice as she entered, gripping her skirts to have something to hold on to, and followed Mr. Chewbacca and Amilyn into the room. The owner of the grisly voice was a very old woman. Her eyes were quite small in her head, and her face was scrunched up and ugly, wrinkled and scarred from who knew what sort of accident over time. She tried to conceal her torn visage, however, with an elegant black, see-through veil which fell over her face and moved slightly with the breeze of her wheezing breath. Her hands were both gripping the golden knob of a cane, held out stiffly before her, tip digging into the carpet, while she herself rested primly on a floral-patterned settee, dressed in the most ridiculous golden gown Rey had ever seen, covered in pearls and rubies as if she were royalty. The overall impression of the house and her appearance was that this woman liked to flaunt her wealth. Rey was severely opposed to such behavior.

“Good evening, Lady Snoke.” Mr. Chewbacca strode toward her and bowed deeply, indicating with a pointed finger that Amilyn and Rey should join him at his side. They did so obediently, both curtsying lightly and bowing their heads toward the old lady.

She sniffed at them, tossing her head back and peering disapprovingly at the pair of them, one thin eyebrow raised through the veil.

“Which one is your wife?” Lady Snoke demanded.

“This is Amilyn Chewbacca.” Mr. Chewbacca gestured to his wife, beaming with warmth, then gestured to Rey. “And this is her sister, Rey Johnson.”

Lady Snoke pierced Rey with a narrowed glare, shifting her cane around and tilting her head, scrutinizing Rey’s messy bun and plain cream-colored gown, the lack of gloves on her hands, color in her cheeks. “Johnson. I have heard that name.”

Rey’s eyes widened and she shook her head. “Have you? I do not believe we have been introduced until this moment, ma’am.”

“I’m positive.” Lady Snoke uttered emphatically, eyes flashing angrily that Rey would dare disagree with her.

“That would be my fault, godmother.”

Rey turned to see Ben Solo approaching from the corner of her eye, dressed immaculately in the finest black silk and linen, and a sense of euphoria and mild relief washed over her before she could take stock of her feelings. Their eyes met and he nodded at her inconspicuously, to which Rey snorted and rolled her eyes, looking away from him immediately, but not before she noticed the pale hand on Ben’s raised arm.

Kira Palpatine.

The young woman did not look well, with the palest skin Rey had ever seen, and sunken brown eyes that appeared almost as if within a skull itself. Her brown hair was thin and wispy, tucked into a weak bun at the nape of her neck, and every possible inch of her flesh was covered with thick, black wool, as if she were not warm enough. Ben guided her with great care toward the sofa opposite her mother and helped her to sit, turning his attention to Lady Snoke.

“I mentioned Miss Johnson when I first came to visit you from London a few days past. Mr. Hux and I had opportunity to spend much time with Miss Johnson and her sister in the countryside.”

“I see.” Lady Snoke looked further irritated and was now examining Rey with more disdain than she had before. Rey swallowed and self-consciously straightened the skirts of her dress, standing a little taller and folding her hands before her. “You know my godson, here?”

Rey met Ben’s eyes, studying his expression as he stood straight, at attention, over Kira’s right shoulder. He watched her impassively, deep brown eyes softened in the dim light of the room.

“We have been acquainted, yes.” She answered softly, looking away from him.

“What did I miss?” A friendly voice called out as another individual strode into the room. “Why haven’t we moved on to dinner yet?”

“We were waiting for you.” Lady Snoke sighed derisively. “Ben, make the introductions.”

“Certainly.” Ben stated flatly, then made the introductions for everyone around the room. When he came to the newcomer, an enormously tall woman dressed in a simple gray gown with bright blonde hair cut short like a gentleman’s, he addressed her as Phasma Fitzwilliam. When he came to his fiancée, he did not address her as such, merely as Kira Palpatine. Rey thought that a curious notion.

“Now we may eat.” Lady Snoke rose on weak knees, leaning on her cane, and began to shuffle off toward an adjacent room, from which smells of sausages and potatoes were wafting deliciously.

Ben leaned down over Kira’s shoulder and offered her his arm, but the young woman swatted at him, hissing under her breath that she did not need his assistance, and rose to her feet with some difficulty, hobbling after her mother into the dining room. Mr. Chewbacca and Amilyn followed, then Phasma Fitzwilliam, and Rey swept in behind them, doing her best to avoid Ben’s stare.

Though he was not avoiding her. She felt his eyes on her as she walked past him toward the door, and just the tiniest shiver ran down her arm as he fell into step beside her, his tall presence looming just in the corner of her eyesight like a dark shadow.

“I am told that beautiful creature is your fiancée.” Rey uttered softly as they walked, so that only he could hear.

It was a moment before he responded. When he did, his voice was low and quiet, a bite of irritation evident. “Is that why you are here? To spy on my private affairs?”

Rey’s gaze snapped to his, not as surprised to find him already gazing at her, something like humor dancing in his eyes. “Of course not. My sister Amilyn just recently married Mr. Chewbacca.”

“I see.” Ben turned his gaze back forward as they stepped into the dining hall after Phasma. He looked like he wanted to say more, but as the guests were seating for dinner, he closed his lips and shuffled toward his seat across from Kira.

Rey tried her best to get a seat away from Ben Solo, but she seemed destined for it, and cursed the fates as she was forced to wander around the side of the table and sit by Ben’s right hand, one seat down from Lady Snoke, but thankfully beside Amilyn. She lowered herself stiffly into her chair and lay her napkin in her lap, trying her best to remain as inconspicuous as possible. Somehow, she wasn’t sure why, but she could still feel Ben’s eyes on her, and the nearness of his thigh, which she’d just now noticed was as massive as a tree trunk, was making her head spin.

_This man almost had Finn and his lover killed._ She reminded herself sternly, and her ardor cooled as quickly as it had come, leaving the warmth of his handsome closeness to pale in remembrance of his faults.

“Miss Johnson,” Lady Snoke barked as she reached a trembling hand for her glass of wine. “Are you the oldest in your family?”

“No,” Amilyn interjected politely. “That would be me.”

“I did not speak to you girl. Mr. Chewbacca, control your wife.” Lady Snoke spat.

The room stilled in deafening quiet around them.

A soft laugh broke the silence then, coming from Phasma herself. “My aunt, ladies and gentlemen. Isn’t she lovely?”

“Oh, why don’t you run off and join the army like you so ardently desire.” Lady Snoke scoffed at her niece, rolling her ancient, bulbous eyes around in her head.

“Because you denied that to me.” Phasma uttered primly. “I am to wed a great general. Perhaps then I can get some fighting in, eh Ben?”

Phasma winked at Ben across the table, who in turn suppressed a soft smile, turning his attention to his plate as the servants entered, carrying tureens of gravy and platters of decadent food. They diligently moved around the table, offering servings of this and that to the dinner guests.

Rey pounced on the opportunity to learn more. “Do you have history fighting, Miss Fitzwilliam? With Mr. Solo?”

“Oh, do not bring up this shame!” Lady Snoke wailed, a hand pressing to her forehead as if she would faint with the agony.

“Of course. He and I were in the same fencing club at school.”

“A school for all boys.” Ben uttered quietly merely for Rey’s benefit, which explained Lady Snoke’s supposed trepidation. Rey’s eyes widened in appreciation, and she hid a small smile behind a sip of her wine, not feeling the least bit sorry for Lady Snoke.

“How your father could ever have agreed to allow you to conceal yourself in such a manner and attend that school.” Lady Snoke was complaining. “It’s no wonder he died so young.”

“Thanks, aunt.” Phasma uttered softly, spearing a piece of sausage on the end of her fork and biting down on the silver as it slipped past her lips.

“Phasma can be who she wants to be, godmother. There are plenty of other women who live their lives single.” Ben uttered quietly, this statement directed mainly toward Lady Snoke herself. Rey listened with rapt attention, a hot flash of ire toward him rising within her. Ben could defend his more masculine lady friend, but reported Finn and Poe for being in love? The hypocrisy.

“I tire of this subject.” Lady Snoke growled, leaning back in her chair and rolling her eyes once more. “Kira, what do you think of dinner this evening?”

Kira had been staring in silence at her plate the entire conversation, her eyes deeply vacant and lost, a scowl on her lips. She ignored Lady Snoke and instead reached for her knife, poking the food set before her.

Rey took the opportunity in the lull of conversation to lean her head closer to Amilyn, who was seated the furthest down the table from Lady Snoke, and who looked rather ill in the face. Rey placed her hand on Amilyn’s knee and squeezed her gently.

“This woman is a nuisance, nothing more. Do not let her biting words ruin a lovely evening with your new husband.” Rey whispered to her. Amilyn gave her a shaky smile and placed her hand over Rey’s.

“Thank you.” She replied.

Rey smiled and pulled her hand away, taking her fork and knife in either hand, beginning to cut away at the food on her plate. She was about to raise a piece of meat to her lips when she was once more directed a question.

“Miss Johnson, how old are you?”

Rey lowered her fork to her plate and turned toward Lady Snoke, sighing lightly with exasperation. Beside her, Ben Solo’s lips curved into an amused smirk, and he breathed a little laugh under his breath. The reaction was distracting, and Rey examined his face before replying, an eyebrow arched in mild confusion.

“Well, your ladyship, I am old enough to know not to reveal my age at a dinner party.”

Lady Snoke’s eyes narrowed and Ben shifted in his seat, reaching for his fork and knife. His plush mouth was pulled into some gesture of amusement and it was annoying the fire out of Rey. She glared back down at her plate and moved to take a bite, as Lady Snoke interrupted again.

“And yet unmarried.” Lady Snoke began, her voice lofty with grandiosity. “Have you had no offer of marriage made to you?”

“Aunt,” Phasma interjected, dabbing her mouth with her napkin. “Leave the poor young lady alone. Why all this interrogation?”

“I merely wish to know-,”

Ben cleared his throat quite loudly, placing his hands flat on the dinner table. “What do old ladies have but gossip and intrigue? Though, Lady Snoke, I do believe you are being a little too excessive. Perhaps let the young woman eat in peace?”

Lady Snoke pierced Ben with a grim stare, her mouth a thin line beneath her black veil. She sat in silence for a moment, then slowly lifted her veil over her head halfway, enough to eat, then speared a carrot and pushed it into her mouth, mollified.

Silence passed around the table as everyone turned to their food. Forks scraped on thin porcelain plates, knives sawed through cooked flesh, and everyone at with downcast eyes.

Mr. Chewbacca cleared his throat. “Lady Snoke, which flowers would you like to be planted in the spring?”

With the innocent interjection of Mr. Chewbacca, the conversation at the table took a safe turn toward the mediocrity of plants, flowers, and springtime. Rey listened half-heartedly, intent only on getting one piece of food after another into her mouth, unaware that the gentleman next to her was watching her each and every move, fascinated. She cleared her entire plate, as she always did, never one to waste any food, turning to nurse at her wine then, counting down the moments until the dinner party would be finished and she could go back to Amilyn’s cottage.

“You must have been hungry.” Ben uttered quietly to Rey. She gave him a questioning look and he glanced between her plate and his. Rey had been the first to finish eating, everyone else was still working their way through.

Rey flushed a little and turned to glare at her plate. “I… it’s a habit. It’s nothing.”

“A habit from your… life before, is it?” Ben hesitated on what to refer to her life in the streets, choosing to remain polite.

“Yes, when I was a filthy scavenger rat.” Rey pressed her thin lips together and met his eyes with a fierce glare, echoing the words he’d said about her the first night they’d met. Ben faltered under her tenacious gaze, turning his face away from her quickly. His hand tensed slightly and moved to rest on his thigh below the table. Rey caught herself staring at it and looked away, angry with herself.

Both of them were struggling to remain coherent in the presence of one another. Rey was finding herself increasingly angry at her body’s physical response to Ben’s presence, her mind loathing him entirely. Ben was struggling to control his emotions, angry with himself at finding every new little thing he learned about her adorable or flattering in some way. Both had their reasons to loathe one another; both had their reasons to avoid the tension between them, the feelings that were developing, but only one of them was being successful at reigning it in. In fact, Ben Solo could not help but wish that he could remain as near to Miss Johnson as possible for whatever time he could have left, eager to soak up all her behaviors and mannerisms, her opinions and thoughts. Eager to touch her and hold her like he had on that blessed night she had agreed, however so unwillingly, to dance with him.

He had hoped leaving the countryside would do both him and Armitage some good. When Hux had been settled in London, Ben had left him to visit his godmother out of obligation and duty to her, and his fiancée, as it had been quite a long time since he’d visited. When he had learned that Rey and her family were in the same vicinity, it had taken all of his strength not to stroll down to that cottage and invite her to Rosings himself. He’d had to plant the idea in Lady Snoke’s ear, give her the notion, and he thought he’d done a rather nice job of it. He was now hopelessly against his original plan of avoiding Miss Johnson, convinced that fate had decided to give him a nudge in the right direction, though still internally he struggled with his feelings toward a woman of her status and position in society.

Rey herself had no idea that the gentleman sitting next to her thought so highly of her, completely lost in her own vengeful thoughts and feelings about her friend Finn. Only one other person sitting at that table had any inclination toward the true heart of Ben Solo, and that person was rapidly becoming angry for it. Lady Snoke did not like how her godson and future son-in-law had come from London, his eyes lighting up as he mentioned a Miss Johnson, his audacity to try and invite her sneakily to Rosings for dinner, as if he did not want to see her. Lady Snoke saw Miss Johnson for what she was: competition to Kira. And Lady Snoke would not give Ben up so easily.

ꕥ

After dinner, everyone retired to the sitting room they had met in before. Lady Snoke offered a nightcap of fire whiskey and drinks were passed around. Rey, unwilling to be near the stuffy older woman any longer, had taken to wandering around the large room, which was rectangular in shape. The ceiling was so tall that it disappeared into shadow, past the glow of the lamps all around, and the carpets and walls were differing shades of red, giving the room an overall womblike feeling. She examined the art on the walls, various paintings of Lucifer and the rebel angels, of demons and rabid dogs, of dragons and hydras, stopping to linger on one painting of a man dressed in black, watching a young woman dressed in white across the space of a field of flowers. She recognized it immediately as Hades and Persephone, and stroked the painting with her eyes, taking in the young woman’s expression. The painter had given her a look of pure joy, her arms outstretched over tufts of daffodils and lilies. Hades face, gaunt and skull-like, watched her with longing.

As Rey examined the image, a dark shadow fell over the her and the painting as someone approached, his large frame blocking her light and changing the tone of the painting before her to something much darker and more wicked. Even Hades’ face seemed to change, his mouth curved in the darkness. Rey turned over her shoulder, glancing at the solid chest of Ben Solo, her eyes following the shape of him until they met his, and her heart missed a few beats.

“My godmother enjoys spending her money.” He murmured softly, examining the painting over her shoulder. “This was a private commission from a painter in Italy. I requested it, she purchased it, and somehow it became hers over time. She has a habit of doing that… taking things from me.”

Rey wondered what had made Ben Solo so talkative, and let out a wry laugh, turning her attention back to the painting.

“I’m not sure what to be more surprised about.” She replied, sliding away from him and moving down the wall to examine another image, a bland and boring one with a bowl of fruit. “That Ben Solo is actually talking about himself, for once, or that he buys paintings about stories that only unmarried women love.”

“I never said **only** unmarried women love them.” Ben corrected her, ruffled as always by her cunning replies. “I have always been partial to the story myself.”

“Why?” Rey narrowed her eyes at him, turning back toward him, her lips in a mocking pout. “Does Mr. Solo dream of kidnapping and corrupting an innocent bride?”

“Sometimes.”

The word had slipped before he could contain himself. Rey had been backing away slowly from him, he had been advancing, but they both stopped, gazes locked, and Rey’s face flooded with color. Ben clenched his fists, feeling an animalistic urge roar demandingly within him, and swallowed the feeling down, determined not to come across as overeager. There was only one “innocent bride” he had ever thought of corrupting and he was starting to wonder if that were even possible.

“What a monstrous thing to say.” Rey murmured, her eyes filling with scorn, and she turned on her heel and tried her best to resume a normal pace around the room. She was ever more attuned to his presence behind her, now that their conversation had taken that sort of turn. She seemed determined to steer it back into safer waters. “Especially when you are already betrothed to wed.”

“Miss Palpatine and I have been engaged since I was a child.” Ben coughed to clear his throat, following her diligently step for step, determined to remain near. “When Lady Snoke became my godmother and benefactor, she made the arrangement with my parents. It is a purely political match.”

“I see no reason why you must justify your ‘political matches’ to me.” Rey muttered with an air of disinterest, but she was pointedly looking anywhere but at him, trailing her fingers over the obsidian mantle of a fireplace along the wall. “How did Lady Snoke become your godmother, when you have a perfectly good mother alive and well?”

Rey both heard and felt him stop short on the carpet behind her and turned back toward him, hoping that he was going to get angry again, like he had that night at Netherfield. She was tired of feeling like she wanted him. She wanted a fight, she wanted to draw blood, she wanted to hurt him. It seemed that she had pushed the right button, however, as Ben Solo narrowed his eyes toward her, a nerve below his left eye twitching with the sudden stress.

“What is your fascination with my mother? What business is it of yours?”

Rey ignored the flare of excitement as he rose to the bait, stepping toward him and summoning all of her hate for him.

“She is the most amazing woman I have ever met and does not deserve a son the likes of you.” She snapped at him, a little overeager. “Why you would ever throw that away when she loves you, I cannot tell.”

“Oh, I see.” Ben laughed darkly, the sound a pleasant rumble from deep within his chest. “You have no parents so you think I should be thankful for mine.”

“I-,” Rey tried to defend herself, her eyes flashing, but Ben continued, cutting her off.

“You can have my mother, Miss Johnson.” Ben spat at her, stepping closer as he dropped his voice an octave lower, eyes filled with fury. “I can assure you she will be quick to replace me as she has always done my entire life, especially since I am the one who killed her husband.”

Silence fell between them, broken only by the increased tempo of Ben’s breathing and the sound of small talk drifting from the other end of the room. Rey examined his face with a torn expression, wondering if his admission was true and why Leia had never chosen to tell any of them this particularly horrible bit of news. By the look in his eyes, he believed it was true, and Rey felt more sickened than ever by his presence.

“You’re a monster.” She hissed between clenched teeth.

“Yes.” He breathed darkly, his brown eyes deep and lost and lonely. “I am.”

“Oi, you two!” A chipper voice interjected as Phasma crossed the large expanse of the room toward them, her eyes narrowed to see better in the dark of the room. “What are you doing over here? If you’re having a go at each other, I want in!”

Ben turned away from Rey and stepped toward Phasma, running a nervous hand through his hair.

“Just showing Miss Johnson some of the paintings.” He stated softly, taking the offered glass of whiskey from Phasma and dismissing himself from their presence with some muttered excuse. Phasma watched him go, smarter than Ben believed, and gave Rey a knowing smile. 

“Here, for you.” Phasma handed her a glass of whiskey as well. “Looks like you riled him up pretty good.”

“Do you know Mr. Solo very well?” Rey asked of Phasma, still reeling from the news he had dropped on her but attempting to gather her wits to finish this unpleasantly sociable evening.

“I feel I am his closest friend, outside of Armitage, of course.” Phasma shrugged. “Ben doesn’t have many friends. He is quite particular with who he associates with.”

“Yes,” Rey thought of Finn for the millionth time that evening, how Ben had reacted running into him on the way home that day, of his hypocrisy and judgmental attitude. “Not many people seem to make the cut.”

“Oh, no.” Phasma laughed good-naturedly, leaning in closer toward Rey and lowering her voice to a hush. “But Ben is a loyal companion to those he accepts. He recently rescued Armitage from an impudent marriage. God help that poor Armitage. He’s a little too eager to be loved, sometimes. Poor man.”

The glass Rey had been holding made a soft clink as it hit the carpet and rolled under a nearby sofa. Phasma exclaimed at the gesture and bent down to pick it up but stopped when she felt Rey’s icy hands gripping her bare forearms.

“What?” Rey demanded, her hands clenching tight on Phasma’s arms. “What did you just say?”

Phasma rose back up to her full height, examining Rey with concern, shaking her head slowly. “I-… I said he saved his friend, Armitage, from an impudent marriage. Apparently, the young woman was only after him for his money.”

Rey wasn’t entirely sure how to feel. She released Phasma’s arms and turned, highly disoriented, her stomach dropping out of her body and opening up into a chasm of anger and rage and anguish. She thought of Rose, standing in the rain wearing Armitage’s coat, crying herself to sleep, stiff and silent and unresponsive for days, starving herself in her agony, and her eyes landed on that filthy, sickening, putrescent man who seemed bound and determined to ruin anything and everything that she held dear in her life.

“Are you alright, Miss Johnson?” Phasma asked quietly beside her, a note of worry in her voice.

“I-,” Rey wrapped her arms around her stomach, shaking her head. “I feel quite ill. I should like to go back now.”

Phasma, prone to random acts of chivalry, offered Rey her arm and led her across the room to Amilyn and Mr. Chewbacca, explaining that Rey had drank the fire whiskey and then suddenly turned ill and that she should probably be taken home. Ben, enamored as ever by her regardless of their bickering fight, rose immediately to his feet, intent on offering to help her home, but Lady Snoke had beat him to the punch.

“Phasma, help them home. Be a good dear.” She croaked, casting Ben a filthy look. “Ben, help Kira to bed, please.”

Rey did not look at him again as they left, fully convinced that doing so would cause her to lose her dinner in front of everyone. Instead, she played her part well, leaning on Phasma’s arm, as Amilyn fawned over her from behind, telling her that all would be well, that she had some ginger tea back home that would help her stomach sort itself out, and Mr. Chewbacca bid their farewells. They bid good evening to Phasma at the gate of their home and Rey insisted she needed only sleep, eager to be alone with her thoughts so she could process this new bit of horrific information. After much arguing, Amilyn finally left her alone, and Rey slunk into her room to sit in the dark and cry.

ꕥ

Rose breathed in through her nose and out through her mouth, concentrating on the feel and the sound of it, counting the number of times it took her to breathe before she felt calm again. She stood in the entryway of a fabulous London town home, gloved hands folded in front of her, all of her hopes and dreams caught up in her throat. She was here, on her mission from Rey, to confront Armitage, to make him realize what he was missing out on, to make him act on his feelings, and Rose was terrified. The possibility of rejection gnawed away at her as she wondered if it was too late to give up and just go home. She wasn’t sure how to complete the task Rey had set out before her: what if Armitage really had just been playing her for a fool?

“Good evening, Miss.” A friendly footman spoke to her as he came around the corner and spotted her standing there, back rigid, eyes round with fear. “Are you lost? I can take you back to the party.”

Rose swallowed and shook her head. “N-no, th-thank you…” She stuttered, mortified to hear her fear vocalize itself in her voice. She wrung her hands together, turned toward the door, stopped, thought about it, then turned back toward the massively confused footman. “Actually… please, I do need help.”

“Right this way.” The footman uttered softly, gesturing down the hall and turning to guide her.

Rose followed him timidly, her dark blue skirts rustling softly over the marble floor. As they approached the small ballroom at the back of the house, Rose’s stomach tied into knots and her pulse quickened; she felt faint. Gritting her teeth, she clutched her skirts in her hands for dear life and stepped into the room as the footman held the door for her, knowing she either had to sink or swim.

She saw him immediately, and every fear, every doubt, every worry melted away as she took in his pristinely combed ginger hair, the rigidity of his stance, the immaculate form of his tailored clothing, the softness of his mouth and the verdant hue of his gaze. She trembled, her skin covering in gooseflesh, and forced herself to look away from him, to act normal, to blend in. Because as much as she wished it would be only she and Armitage in that room, there were at least fifty other people besides them, and Rose did not come here to make a scene.

She scanned the room for her aunt Threepio, a tall and skinny woman with a face like a gaping goldfish, relieved when she spotted her sitting in the corner at a card table with many other older women. Rose strode directly to her, taking a seat beside her, trying not to think about whether or not Armitage had noticed her yet or not.

“Rose, dear.” Aunt Threepio crooned, pulling a chair out for her niece. “I wondered where you had gone. You practically begged to come to this party tonight and then you go missing!”

“Aunt, please.” Rose ushered her to soften her tone. “Not so loud.”

“Well, I never told my aunt to hush up. Never in my life. How improper.”

Rose grit her teeth and glanced back into the crowd of revelers, scanning the sea of bobbing heads for a spark of ginger. She was disappointed not to find what she was looking for. He had disappeared.

Frowning, she glanced back to her aunt and tapped a finger on the pile of cards before her.

“Aunt, after this round, can you deal me in?”

“I suppose so, Rosie. Though you really should be dancing. You aren’t getting any younger and there are many single men at this party.”

Rose wished her aunt was not the sort of person to overshare, but such was the life of the family she’d chosen to love. She sighed, defeated, and allowed Threepio to speak how she saw fit, impatiently waiting to be dealt in.

A flash of ginger caught her eye from across the room and Rose tuned into it immediately, watching as the red head came into view from behind a cluster of girls. It was Armitage, he was smiling, and holding hands with a pretty little blonde.

Rose felt her whatever remained of her heart snap in two. Her eyes began to well with tears and she stood abruptly to her feet, knocking the card table forward so that it skid across the floor two inches with a loud scrape, attracting much attention.

“Rose!” Aunt Threepio exclaimed, far too loudly, as her cards slipped to the floor. “Whatever is the matter?”

“Excuse me.” Rose whimpered, then turned and darted out of the room as quickly as she could manage, desperate to seek some private place where she could fall apart at the seams. 

Slipping into the hallway, Rose made her way toward the foyer, intent on leaving this house as she never should have come, startled by the sound of quick moving feet behind her on the tile. She moved quicker, darting around a turn and breaking into a run for the front door.

“Rose, wait!”

Rose stopped against the front door, palms and nose pressed against it, her eyes closed as she took in the sound of his voice, feeling it warm every part of her. It was like slipping into a freshly prepared bath, warm, familiar and perfect, but it wasn’t for her anymore. That much was clear. She heard him enter the foyer behind her and steeled herself, swallowing her feelings and drying her eyes, turning around with the bravest face to meet him head on.

“Armitage.” She smiled warmly. “Hello.”

“Hello.” He murmured breathlessly, his face a map of pained confusion. “It… it is good to see you.”

“Is it?” Rose breathed hopefully, her cheeks tinging with the softest shade of pink.

“Well,” Armitage began, swallowing so hard his adam’s apple bobbed violently in his throat. “Yes. I hope you are well.”

His words were careful, polite. They were so polite they hurt.

“I am.” Rose mumbled softly. “Who… who was that woman you were with?”

Armitage clenched his jaw, steeling himself and straightening his spine. Of course, Rose would ask about that girl, even though she’d meant nothing. He couldn’t even remember her name. Any girl he showed interest in was competition. He wondered why Rose was here, why she cared to show her face again, after he’d already made it plainly apparent to her that he wouldn’t be caught by a gold digger. He had wanted to believe what he and Rose had was real, but time away from her had hardened his heart, as had years of self-loathing and vitriolic treatment from his late father, and he’d convinced himself that no woman as pure and sweet as she could ever love him.

Even as she stood before him now, so pretty and so vulnerable, her face was soft and pleasant, her smile calm, nothing about her posture spoke anything about her missing him. If she’d loved him, she’d be crying, she’d be begging, she’d be pleading, wouldn’t she?

“She… she’s a friend.” He decided finally, his fists clenching at his sides. “A friend of Millicent’s.”

“Oh.” Rose murmured, biting her bottom lip and wrapping her arms around her middle, struggling to keep it together. It was easier to be calm, cool, and collected if she turned her emotions off, easier to be strong as she needed to be if she ignored how desperately she wanted him. So, she did. “Is Millicent well?”

“She is.” Hux responded in a clipped tone. “She flourishes in London. I think she hates the country.”

“Mm.” Rose agreed with a little nod. “I suppose you won’t be returning anytime soon, then?”

“No.” He uttered firmly, watching her face carefully for her reaction, desperate for her to show some pain, some sorrow.

She turned her face away, walking to the window and peering out into the streets, her gloved hands covering her elbows. “Well, I… I am glad I bumped into you here. When I got your letter, I… Let’s just say that I wish you had told me goodbye in person.”

“Why?” Hux whispered, unable to keep himself from stepping toward her, drawn by the enticing shape of her lithe form, the curls of her hair in her two little buns, the span of her pale neck.

“Our last evening was so perfect.” Rose muttered, stuffing her pain deep down inside. It was the only way to keep talking. “I would have liked to kiss you one last time. Before you became only my friend.”

Hux stopped inches from her, his palms itching to touch her, wondering if he could get away with one last kiss, one more stolen breath, one more touch. But he knew better, and he turned his back to hers, setting his jaw and fixing his eyes on the tile floor below, so as not to be distracted by her physical presence.

“I’m sorry, Miss Tico.” He grit out. “But that part of our relationship is over with.”

Rose grabbed hold of the windowsill and leaned on it for strength as she heard the sharp clack of his shoes, moving him away from her and back into the arms of another woman Millicent preferred. ‘Miss Tico’ he’d called her, and perhaps that was the most painful sound of all. It resounded around Rose’s head as she sank to the floor in a pool of her skirts, burying her face in her hands and dissolving into quiet tears.

Rey had been wrong. Rose wasn’t brave. And Armitage Hux did not love her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/ardentlyloveyou)!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! I really appreciate comments! 😊


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Darth Darcy PROPOSES and Regal Rey bites back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is shorter, but I'm sort of in the home stretch with content. We're getting to the climax here, people!!! I'm doing my best to do both stories justice, and I just LOVE these two and their bickering!! 
> 
> Rey is about to sooooooo regret everything. And Ben is gonna be a sad lil puppy. I love to see it. 
> 
> If you have been reading each update, keeping up with this, you deserve all love, happiness, money, luck, good fortune, cookies, and gold stars, and I want you to know that I appreciate you. <3 Have my love. 
> 
> Enjoy the chapter!

The day was turning out to be beautifully cruel. The sun beat down upon the merry-making picnic-goers, roasting their flesh, so that the three young ladies present had to cover themselves up with shawls and wide-brimmed hats to avoid a burn. The gentlemen were unfortunate enough to have no reprieve from the sun, aside from what they could get in the shade of the enormous willow tree they all reposed beneath, gathered in small bunches on large gingham blankets, their spread of food and tea lay out before them. All together in the party were six of them: Mr. Chewbacca and his wife Amilyn, Mr. Ben Solo and his fiancée Kira, Phasma Fitzwilliam, and Miss Rey Johnson. It had been Mr. Chewbacca’s idea to enjoy the fine weather outdoors, as he liked to be, and Rey had thought it a fine idea, seconding it quickly.

What she hadn’t known when she’d agreed was that Ben Solo would be coming along.

Now she sat as far away from him as possible, picking slowly at a bunch of fat grapes and pushing one after another past her pursed lips, looking pointedly anywhere but at him. All luncheon long he had stared at her, thinking he was being sneaky, and it was putting Rey entirely out of sorts. She could not fathom why such a fool would want to sneak looks at her, almost longingly as if he loved her. She thought perhaps the heat of the day had scrambled his brain. He should, instead, be fawning over his ridiculously ill fiancée, though Rey did not blame him for his lack of affection toward her. Kira reacted to every behavior he made in her direction with rage and irritation, content to sit and stare dolefully into nowhere, her mind lost to her illness.

“Want to play a game?” Phasma suddenly piped up to fill the silence.

Rey looked out onto the horizon. Dark clouds were building in the far corner of the sky.

“Oh, I love games.” Amilyn stated amiably. “What do you have in mind?”

“We could climb trees.” Phasma stated with a warm laugh, glancing up the tall one her back rested on.

“I haven’t climbed trees since I was a boy.” Mr. Chewbacca stated wistfully.

Rey climbed trees all the time. She did not want to climb trees today. She wanted to mash Ben Solo’s face into the pudding he sat a few feet from.

“We could play a mind game. Twenty questions? Guess what I’m thinking?” Phasma offered when no one took to the tree climbing idea.

“Are we children?” Kira grumbled irritatingly.

Rey made the mistake of glancing at Ben’s face. He was looking at her again. Their eyes met and he looked away quickly, his breath seeming to catch a little in his throat. She glared at him, reclining on one elbow, his long, large frame sprawled out leisurely on the blanket behind Kira. It was the most relaxed she had ever seen him, and if she did not know any better, she’d find it an idyllic image, how contentedly sweet and handsome he seemed on this beautiful day. But she did know better, and the very sight of him seeming so happy repulsed her.

Tasting the grapes for the second time on the back of her throat, now with an acidic zing, she tossed the remainder of the grapes on the plate before her and rose to her feet, brushing her hands dry on her skirts.

“I am going for a walk.” She announced rather abruptly and did not wait for anyone to reply.

Striding out of the shade of the tree into the warmth of the sun, she tilted her hat forward over her eyes and set off at a rapid pace across the field, toward the billowing gray clouds beginning to build. She could smell the rain in the air and it called to her, enticing her into the depth of the copse of trees across the field, the warmth of grasses and building dew filling her nostrils and astounding her senses.

The wind picked up. The gray clouds that had been at a distance crept closer, but Rey was not worried. She marched on, putting as much distance between her and that fool back at the picnic as she could, having had quite enough of Mr. Ben Solo and his never-waning presence. It wasn’t long before soft, late summer rains began to fall, the air darkening around her, and Rey pulled off her large hat, holding it at her side and tilting her face up toward the sky with closed eyes, sighing at the feel of raindrops on her cheeks.

It was like a baptism, and Rey imagined all of her loathing and fury and frustration washing off of her as the sky cleansed her with it’s tears. She released her anxieties, her worries for Rose, her fear for Finn, imagining them cast into the air, and enjoyed the feel of the rain seeping into her clothing, the cool reaching down deep into her bones, taking root there.

Hearing a slow rumble of thunder, Rey snapped out of her haze and began to hurry through the woods, back toward the park they had been lounging in, knowing that there was a gazebo there she could take momentary shelter in from the storm. As she turned back, she heard the snap of twigs deep within the woods, hair rising on the back of her neck, but she perceived no threat, and went on.

The gazebo was dry and sheltered from the wind. Rey sighed and wiped wet tendrils of hair out of her eyes, tossing her hat to the granite floor and leaned up against a large, marble column, staring out into the dripping rain and mist, trying to keep the ever-creeping fear and stress at bay. What was she going to tell Rose? Could she tell her that Armitage had in fact loved her, but that their love was sacrificed by a selfish megalomaniac who saw himself god of all he surveyed?

“Miss Johnson.”

Rey snapped her head to the left. She steeled her spine, her lips pressing thin. Speak of the devil…

“Miss Johnson.” Ben stated again, sounding a little out of breath, as he walked toward her out of the rain. His deep brown eyes were dark in the grey around them, but beautiful, rimmed in thick, damp lashes, and his black hair clung to his face and head, rivulets of water running down his strong jaw. His lips, so plush and full, bright red on his pale face, pressed nervously together, and his hands were fidgeting with the lapels of his jacket. Rey turned her eyes from him and stared once more out into the rain.

“Mr. Solo.” She stated flatly, by way of acknowledgement.

“Rey… I-” He moved closer in the corner of her eye, his hands still fidgeting, his steps hesitant. “I have struggled in vain and I can bear it no longer.”

His voice, speaking her name, enveloped Rey in a cloud of senseless feeling. She could not fathom why he had suddenly become so informal, why he ran his hand through his wet hair, twice, why he was staring at her with such fire in the depth of his eyes. She watched him, clenching her teeth, waiting for him to finish what he was so obviously trying to say.

“These past months have been a torment to me.” His expression was so genuine, so earnest. “I have struggled with myself, with my position of rank, with the inferiority of your birth. You come from nothing. You’re nothing.”

Rey felt her face contort with the strength it was taking not to lash out at him. Her spine tensed, her fists clenched, her jaw ached from pressure.

“But not to me.” He stared into her eyes, his own now clearly reflecting a depth of longing, and his lips pressed thin as he swallowed his nerves.

“I don’t understand-,” Rey managed to grit out, but he interrupted her, taking one more step toward her as he extended a hand. She met his eyes, examined his face, watched his lower lip tremble, and he spoke.

“I love you.” He breathed. “Most ardently. Do me the honor of accepting my hand?”

Rey stared at his palm, feeling weightless and untethered to the ground. Time ticked slowly by. It took great effort to turn her face upward to look at him. Every moment she did not take his hand, his expression slipped somewhat. Rey thought of a million things she wanted to say to him, but the silence was deafening, until he broke it with the softest, purest of pleas, begging her with a simple “Please?” sent on a whispered prayer.

That broke her silence, and Rey backed away from him on one foot, shaking her head slowly. “I-… I am sorry, but no.”

Ben’s face fell as Rey began to laugh, her shoulders shaking slightly with the motion. He drew his hand back and grew taller, straightening over her, and advanced a step.

“You-,” He breathed, his face contorting with fury. “You are laughing at me?”

“Can you blame me?” Rey cried. “Whatever would possess you to think I could ever accept a man who had just claimed I am ‘nothing’?”

“I meant, in the sense of your heritage, you-,” Ben was scrambling to make amends, his tongue tying. But Rey was quicker than he.

“Oh, I know what you meant, Mr. Solo.” She snapped at him, taking two threatening steps toward him, pleased when he retreated one. “I am the scavenger rat, as stated by yourself, no? I, too lowly for you, a bottom feeder on society. I’m so sorry you seem to have fallen in love with such refuse.”

“I never said-,”

“I have other reasons to deny you. You know I have.” She bit out at him, infuriated.

“What reasons?” He demanded. It was his turn; he stepped toward her. She did not back away.

“Do you think anything would ever tempt me to accept the hand of the man who has ruined FOREVER the happiness of my most beloved sister?!” Her voice was shrill now, her skin alive with fire, thrilled to finally be free to scream at him as she willed, all her vehemence and loathing pouring out of her like lava.

He stilled, his eyes softening on hers. “What do you mean?”

“You separated them.” She seethed, her eyes beginning to sting at the thought of Rose and her sorrow. “Rose and Armitage. Do you deny it?”

“I do not.” He hissed back.

“Why did you do it?”

Ben shriveled beneath the accusatory stare she gave him, scrambling to compensate for his methods, to justify his actions. “At the party, it was made abundantly clear, by your own sister’s actions, that she was seeking an advantageous marriage. Armitage himself could not be persuaded to state his confidence of her love for him. He could not prove it.”

“My sister hardly shows her true feelings to me, let alone anyone else!” Rey snapped.

They were close, then, so close. He could reach out and brush her cheek, kiss her forehead, inhale the scent of her hair. He wanted to. But she looked so disgusted, so affronted, so furious, he did not dare it, but neither could he move away, pinned by her vehemence.

When he had no answer for her, she continued.

“And what of Mr. Fallsbrook?”

Ben’s eyes flared with anger and, though it hardly seemed possible, he stepped closer, his chest brushing against Rey’s breasts so that she had to take a step away, drawing in a sharp breath.

“Mr. Fallsbrook.” He sneered. “That immoral man?”

“Immoral?” Rey all but yelled. “And you suppose yourself to be a gentleman.”

“What honorable gentleman would sleep with another man and then return to England in an attempt to claim a woman?”

“Claim a-,” Rey’s eyes widened with angry confusion.

“I saw you with him.” Ben spat. “On the road to your house, when I learned that my entire livelihood could have been thrown into prison for providing false papers to both a homosexual and deserter of the British military.”

“He is not-,”

“He put us all in danger.” Ben snarled. “Me… you. My mother. We could still suffer for aiding him.”

“It’s the right thing to do. Unlike you… How could you even think of turning him into the authorities like you did?! What sort of evil man has another man imprisoned, nearly killed, for being in love with another?”

Ben’s face fell then, his eyes widening, and he opened his mouth as if to argue, but Rey had hit her stride. She advanced on him, leaning up on her toes to get in his face, feeling very much out of control in her anger.

“You disgust me. You are revolting. Your arrogance, your disdain for the lives and feelings of others, your god-complex have convinced me that, even were the world devoid of life and we the last two, I could never be compelled to marry you.” She seethed at him, having spoken all on one angry, fiery breath.

He stared at her, expression lost and broken, studying her eyes. Neither had realized it, but they were so close now that, were one of them to even shift a little, their noses would brush, their lips would bump, and Ben gazed longingly at her, thinking of it briefly. But he could not bring himself to match his prior desire, knowing now how she felt. He swallowed, pulled away a little, examined her lips. She did the same, watching him with a lost look in her gaze, her cheeks flushed, her eyes hungrily taking him in.

“Forgive me.” He whispered gently. “I will accept your refusal.”

Rey could feel his warmth leave her as he turned and stepped back into the rain. It filled her up with an intense loneliness, a depth inside that had possessed all of her hatred, and once she had released it, she was empty. Some small part of her longed for that emptiness to be filled by him. With the hatred fulfilled, she was left with that small ache that had begun to grow for him while he was falling in love with her. It would never be sated, and Rey hoped she could be just fine with that.

ꕥ

Rey made the long walk back to Amilyn’s home by herself, shivering from the damp of her clothes, as the rain finally subsided and the sun began to set. When she arrived, Amilyn fussed about, concerned for her, wondering where she’d got off to, but Rey said nothing, not a single word. She accepted a warm bath, staying in much longer than needed, and when she was wrapped safely in warm clothing again, she sat to dinner with Amilyn and Mr. Chewbacca. She spoke very little and ate even less, unsure of how to move forward with her life after such peculiarity as the afternoon had presented.

Eventually, Mr. Chewbacca and Amilyn retired to their sitting room for drinks and reading. Rey wished them a warm goodnight, doing her best to seem as normal as possible, and retreated to her room, sinking onto her bed and staring into nothingness, her palms flat on her thighs.

It occurred to her, swimming alone in her thoughts, that she had been proposed to twice now in the span of only a few months. And she had said no to both. The first had triggered many upset memories. This one had not, though it felt somehow more poisonous than the first. She didn’t have time to analyze her own thoughts and feelings as to why she hadn’t reacted similarly to Ben’s proposal, as she had to Mr. Chewbacca’s. She assumed it was all because she hated him, hated him so much, she really would rather die than be his little trinket, a bauble on his arm to take to parties and show off to the world.

Why would he have wanted her anyway? How could he actually love her? And how was he so foolish to even entertain the thought that she may ever accept him? It wasn’t love. It must be lust. She had felt it too, they both had, and she was no longer afraid to admit it to herself. She was attracted to him, as a fly is attracted to a drowning death in a honeypot.

A noise on the landing distracted her from her melancholy thoughts. A soft rapping of knuckles on her door sounded, Rey called for the knocker to enter, and Amilyn peeked her head around the door.

“Rey… I’m so sorry to interrupt, but it’s the strangest thing.”

“What is it?” Rey rose and strode toward her sister, taking the door from her grasp and opening it wider.

“Mr. Solo just popped in. He gave me this.” Amilyn held up a thick envelope. “He wanted me to give it to you.”

Rey noted the tone of curiosity in Amilyn’s voice, the expression of confusion, the longing to know what the contents of the letter were. Rey had half a mind to throw it into the fireplace then and there and have nothing more to do with the man. But perhaps she should let him explain himself.

“Thank you.” She uttered quietly, taking the envelope from her hand.

“Are you quite alright?” Amilyn inquired on a low breath.

“Just fine. Why do you ask?”

Amilyn shrugged, pressing her lips into a frown. “You don’t seem yourself. Do you miss home?”

Rey smiled wanly. “A little. Do you?”

“A lot.” Amilyn nodded, her eyes suddenly welling with tears. Rey frowned and held her arms open as Amilyn rushed forward, folding her grip around her and petting her hair.

“Oh, you poor dear.” She whispered. “What’s wrong? Is Mr. Chewbacca cruel to you?”

“No.” Amilyn whimpered, dabbing her thumbs at her eyes and pulling away, embarrassed to have caved to her younger sister. “No, he’s perfectly amiable. I just… I miss home. I miss our sisters. I miss Leia and Luke, Jannah’s piano playing, Kay-D’s craziness. I don’t like this… growing up.”

Rey examined Ami’s face with sympathy, nodding in agreement. “Nor do I.”

Amilyn glanced around the room, which normally Rey would have kept tidy, but now her things were strewn about. She knew something was wrong, but Amilyn was not the type to pry, and Rey had never really been the type to confide in just anyone.

So instead she said “Goodnight, Rey” and slipped out the door.

Rey echoed the sentiment and closed the door behind her, feeling the thickness of the envelope in her hand. She examined it with narrowed eyes, thought briefly one final time of tossing it in the fire, then crossed the room and sank onto the mattress, one knee curled up under her, unfolded the paper, and began to read.

_Miss Johnson,_

_Please do not worry yourself that this letter will contain any repetition of those sentiments, or renewal of those offers, which this afternoon were so disgusting to you. I write, with no intentions of harming you, nor of humbling myself, by dwelling on wishes which, I am sure we will both agree, should be forgot quite soon for the happiness of us both. I hesitated in sending this letter, however, but I decided it must be done, to address the charges you have laid before me._

_Firstly, you have accused me of separating my good friend, Armitage Hux from that of the love of your sister, Rose Tico. Secondly, you accuse me of hating individuals for the lifestyle choices they pursue, regardless of having any evidence to support such claims. These two offences are grievous indeed, yet I would ask that you hear my perspective and save your judgement for the end of this letter._

_I have known Armitage Hux for most of my life. He and I were enemies, once, the worst you can possibly imagine. We hated one another with such passion that I feared one day either would kill the other. However, when it came time for him to actually cause me harm, he showed his true colors, and offered his life in my stead. A gift like that can never be repaid, and I owe my life to him. He gives off an air of strength and charisma, but Armitage is delicate when it comes to the opinions and feelings of others. His father was a cruel man and did much damage to the heart and mind of my friend. He fell quickly in love with your sister, and at first this seemed a fair thing to occur, but at the party at Netherfield, her behavior and actions made it apparent to many present at the ball that she could have nefarious interests in him. Naturally, I became suspicious in defense of my friend. When I questioned him about his love for her, he remained steadfast, but on the matter of her love for him, he could not say. With lack of confidence, he confided to me that Miss Tico perhaps did not love him, and from there was easily persuaded to avoid pain to his heart before it was too late. I do not regret my part in his decision to leave Netherfield. My actions were in the service of a friend and, however incorrect, fully justified in my protection of his feelings._

_As to the second offense you have laid before me, that of the mysterious Mr. Fallsbrook, I take it upon good word from my mother that you and he have as close a relationship as brother and sister, and for my part in his story, I am deeply sorry. I wish, with all my heart, that I could have done more for him and his Captain._

_You should know, Miss Johnson, that before I knew of your repulsion to me, I found it increasingly difficult to be sane in your presence. When I discovered him upon your arm in the countryside, I profess I was jealous, and in hindsight should not have reacted as I did. For this, I am also sorry. The thought of you or my mother being in peril due to his foolery and bumbling behavior terrified me and set me about to panic and impure rage._

_I was the one to discover Mr. Fallsbrook with his lover, Captain Poe Dameron. However, as he may have told you, I was not alone the evening I saw them. With me was Mr. Pryde, the management officer of my merchant shipping office. We had stepped out for a late evening dinner and were returning to the office to continue our audit. When we stepped into the office and discovered them there, in a position I shall not repeat to a lady, Pryde reacted with menace. He drew his pistol on the pair of them, ordered them to dress. During all of this I remained silent, embarrassed for them, angry at Captain Dameron for bringing his personal liaisons to my public office. I expected Pryde to handle it, as he was Dameron’s superior, but as Pryde urged to call for the authorities, I stepped in._

_I dismissed Captain Dameron from service, for committing acts of lechery in a public office, and told both him and Mr. Fallsbrook to leave immediately. Pryde was angry and refused to allow them to leave. He woke his servant boy in his quarters upstairs and sent him, against my wishes, to fetch the authorities. I assure you, Miss Johnson, with utter trust and faith and hope in you that you will not reveal this letter to the authorities, I do not despise Mr. Fallsbrook nor Captain Dameron for the way they live their lives and whom they choose to love, as you insinuated before. I merely wanted them to follow the rules of decorum._

_Before the authorities arrived, I tried to reason with Pryde, but he was having none of it. I tried to convince him that no honest man would work for him if he were so quick to rat someone out for something as simple as intercourse, but he would not be persuaded. In the end, I had to bribe him with a hefty sum to give Poe Dameron his life. The money finally persuaded him, but he insisted that Dameron still pay penance. When the authorities arrived, I told them we had dismissed Captain Dameron for thievery, as Pryde watched carefully on, determined that Captain Dameron would be punished. Thievery, as you may know, will get an individual condemned to the Australian colonies, but will affirm the criminal avoids the noose, which is what Pryde wanted to hang around the Captain’s neck. It was all I could do for him with the time and resources I was provided. I regret nothing more could be done._

_I repeat none of this to renew the sentiments I gave to you this afternoon. I am aware of your true feelings of me and I have accepted them. I merely wished to provide you with a clearer view, to set the record straight. Additionally, I may add that you have, on many repeated occasions, brought up my relationship with my mother. I confessed to you what I feel responsible for in regards to her pain, and I suggest that you speak to her about this matter and ask her to fill in the details. I have many regrets when it comes to the relationship I have with my mother. I do not hate her. But I know that I may never return to her the way I had before the accident, and though this causes her great pain, I must do as I feel necessary to serve my own penance._

_I hope this letter finds you well. Until we may have the occasion to meet again._

_Yours,_

_Mr. Ben Solo_

Rey read the letter at least three times, wanting to be certain of what she was reading. When she had, and began to process her thoughts, she read it again, just to be sure that she was comprehending the content correctly. It was hard to connect how she had been feeling about Ben Solo for so long now with this new information. Her thoughts cycled through the many different options: could he be lying, could he be mistaken, could he be exaggerating, could he have lost his mind? But the beginning of the letter kept coming back to the forefront of her mind, haunting her. He wasn’t telling her this to convince her to marry him. He wasn’t renewing his sentiments. He wasn’t re-extending the offer. He was just trying to set the record straight.

Rey really had to process that thought. It was bothering her, quite a lot, and made her feel intense feelings. Why should she care if he wasn’t trying to ask her to marry him again? She had said no. It was done with. Nothing more could be said.

But Rey couldn’t really lie to herself. This letter changed everything. The only things that remained the same were his ridiculously narrow thoughts of her, his judgement of her past life as ‘nothing’, but if he loved her, that could easily be remedied or brushed aside as foolish arrogance. Each and every argument she had against him was now riddled with holes, fired upon without quarter, and she was suddenly losing the war. Her head swirled with the thought that Finn had no idea that Poe had gone to Australia as a criminal to save his life. He had no idea that Ben was the man who had done it. He had no idea that Ben had tried his best to protect him and the one he loved.

That is, if he was telling the truth. Rey really wanted to find some reason to despise him still. But she was coming up empty. She thought of Rose and Armitage. Sure, Ben said he had acted out of love for his friend. But he had still separated them. He had still caused her agony. Even so, Rey could not deny that, if the situation had been reversed, she would have done the exact same thing. Had Armitage shown any indication of hurting Rose, Rey would have done everything within her power to keep him from her sister. She could not really blame Ben for this. The entire situation was an unfortunate disaster, a mess of miscommunication. He had not willingly and knowingly tormented them both, as Rey had originally feared. And she suspected Millicent had more of a hand in this, as well.

Rubbing her forehead, trying to ease a tension headache that had begun to form, she lay the letter down on the bed and stared at the words, the blur of his pretty handwriting, a relatively tidy scrawl. He made large, looping letters, his vowels softer, and many of his letters had additional curlicues or flares. He had the handwriting of a practiced calligrapher. It was beautiful. His signature, too, boasted of his personality, large and in charge, but pleasantly perfect.

_Perfect_ , Rey thought to herself, frowning.

Ben Solo was not perfect. Nor was this situation. But Rey Johnson began to fear, for the first time ever in her life, that she had made a very poor and hasty decision. And she could find nothing within her to justify herself or her behavior.


End file.
